Die Geschichte von 'Schwarz'
by Trunkschan2
Summary: History of 'Schwarz': A fan's ideas. Follow the Schwarz boys from the beginning. The rating is for language and a couple of BxS lemon scenes. Look inside to the last chapter for a longer author's note.
1. Eins

Ok, this is yet another attempt at a fanfic by me, but a first by myself. I hope you all enjoy. Ummmm...the Schwarz boys aren't mine (sigh), some of the ideas are not mine. They belong to Koyasu Takehito-sama and project Weiß. My sources are mostly my friend Katashi Usagi and her "a-mucking" across the world wide web. I also dedicate this to her, because many of the ideas are from the two of us, 3:00 in the morning, high on green tea. Ummm..all other idea are mine. If there is any similarity to real people or real life events, don't sue me. Ok, I think that's all. Enjoy!  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Tokyo, Japan  
  
"Otousama, onegai! Onegai!" Megumi threw herself at her father's feet.  
  
"Get rid of it! I no longer call that thing my grandson." He stood stalk still, staring out into oblivion. "That child is the work of the devil. I do not want it in my sight."  
  
Megumi was in tears. "But he's my son! He's my."  
  
".if he's your son, then you do something about him. If you do not." he looked down at his daughter's tear filled eyes, "then you force me to."  
  
He walked out of the room. Megumi looked up to see a blurry image of her mother sitting in a chair next to where her father had stood. Her mother went over and knelt down next to Megumi, embracing her.  
  
"Hush child, everything will be alright."  
  
"Doshite, Okaasan? Why did he have to be born different? Why does dad have to be so unreasonable?"  
  
Mother stroked Megumi's hair. "I don't totally disagree with your father. Think about how society will accept you or the boy. Both of you will be outcasts. He won't be able to go to school and what if he uses this ability of his to do harm; to himself or to others?"  
  
Megumi brought her head up and looked at her mother. "Whose side are you on?"  
  
"I'm not on anyone's side. I am simply stating a fact. In the end, I hope you decide what to do before you father does." At that, she hugged Megumi on last time, got up and left the room.  
  
Megumi wiped the tears from her face and eyes and left the room as well. She walked down a hallway to the room at the end... She opened the door and looked at the small figure sitting on the floor across the room staring out the window. She went over and pulled the child to her.  
  
In a moaning cry, she blurted out, "Oh Nagi, Nagi, Nagi-chan, why? Why do you have to be different?"  
  
The child was starting to cry too. "Gomen nasai, Okaasan."  
  
Megumi looked down at the boy's tear filled eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, honey. It's not your fault at all."  
  
The two of them held each other, rocking back and forth, for what seemed like hours. Megumi stared out into oblivion, thinking of what she wanted to do; how she was going to do it. After a while, she looked down at her watch. "Early evening," she thought. She then looked out the window, again thinking, "Sun's still up."  
  
Megumi wiped her nose and then her eyes. "Nagi-chan," she wiped his eyes, "I want you to get your coat. We are going to go on a little walk, ok?"  
  
Nagi wiped his nose, still attempting to calm down. "Hai." He left the room, heading toward the closet by the front door to the house.  
  
Megumi stood up. She still wasn't quite sure what she was going to do. Perhaps an idea would come to her while they were walking around the neighborhood. As she was about to walk out the door, Megumi noticed a little stuffed toy that her husband had gotten Nagi for his first birthday sitting on the dresser. She picked it up and looked at it. She remembered the day he had died, that horrible accident, that day she found out her son was different. A shiver ran down her spine. Setting the toy back down on the dresser, she walked to the front door where Nagi was patiently waiting.  
  
Megumi got her coat and purse and the two of them left the house. It was a fair spring day; a slight breeze, a warm sun, it almost made her forget about why she was out walking in the first place. Megumi walked slowly, letting her son's three-year-old legs catch up to hers. She looked down at him. He had stopped crying and seemed to have brightened up, but his eyes still showed so much sorrow in them.  
  
The two of them walked around for about half an hour before they came to the main part of the town. The sidewalks were much more crowded; people going home from work, others just out and about. Megumi looked around at all the people; happy, carefree, no problems.none like hers anyway. She held on tightly to the little hand that was in hers; guiding Nagi around sidewalk obstacles. Megumi noticed his happiness was returning. This is how she liked to see her son, and herself.  
  
Just at that moment, Megumi felt a pull at her arm. A tall figure ran past her with her purse in its hand. "Ahhhhhh! Thief!" she screamed out. People turned to look at her and then searched for the culprit whom she was yelling about. Megumi started to cry again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the figure continue down the street with her life in its hand.  
  
Nagi looked at his mother, tears streaming down her face, and then looked down the street to where the thief was still running. Suddenly, Megumi saw the figure make an abrupt turn and smash into the building next to it. She thought to herself, "That didn't look like a turn, it looked like he flew-."  
  
Megumi looked down at her son and then up again. This time she noticed some people looking at them. "Oh, Nagi."  
  
Nagi started to cry again. "Okaasan, why are they looking at me?"  
  
Megumi didn't answer. She didn't want to answer. She tried to deny it. Suddenly she heard someone call out, "It was you, wasn't it?" She scanned the crowd looking for a face to the voice, but no one revealed them selves. Nagi was crying harder than before. People were starting to talk. Megumi knew, she just knew they were talking about Nagi, her little boy that did nothing wrong; did nothing to deserve this.  
  
Nagi looked for a place to run. But, there were people everywhere, almost everywhere. He let go of his mother's hand and darted across the street.  
  
"Nagi-chan!" Megumi screamed. Cars were coming. She ran into the street after her son. A car honked its horn. She gave Nagi a shove. He fell face first to the side, scraping his knees and his cheek. He never heard the brakes squeal. He never saw his mother's body fly several feet forward. He never saw his mother alive again.  
  
Nagi didn't realize what had happened. He got up and started to cry, mostly because his knees now hurt but also because he saw his mother's body on the road. But now everybody was looking at him. He felt something building inside of him, like a bubble; a very big bubble. The world was blurry; his mind was blurry. The bubble started to hurt him; in his mind, in his body. He had to release it or he thought he would explode. Nagi took in a deep breath. "OKAASAN!!!!" Release.  
  
When he opened his eyes, nothing was around him. There were no people, no cars, no garbage cans, no telephone poles, nothing. It looked as if everything that was around him had been blown away.  
  
Now he was more scarred then he was before. He ran again; down the street as far as he could. He kept running until he had no strength left in him to run. He stopped next to an alleyway. There he sat down in the opening of it, buried his head in his scratched knees and cried until he fell asleep.  
  
************************************************************************ Later that year: Berlin, Germany  
  
"So what are you doing after school?" Till said to the redheaded boy walking next to him.  
  
"Umm, I don't know. Probably just helping my mom housework or something. If I get it done today, I can sleep in and go out tomorrow." The redheaded boy smiled. He always liked Saturdays. Spending time with his mom. He always got some sort of a present from her on Saturday. He never realized how much money she seemed to earn from the bakery where she worked. But he didn't care.  
  
The two boys headed down to the Wall. That's where they split on their walk home. Sitting there by the Wall, as there was every day, was an old homeless guy. The two boys walked over to him. In unison, "Gutan Tag, Hier Landstreicher. Wie geht es Ihnen?"  
  
The old man looked up. "Guten Tag boys. I am just fine. The weather is warm and the sun is shinning. You boys doing good in school?"  
  
Till answered, "Yes Sir, we are. Actually, I should probably be going. I have some homework. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreicher. Bis später Ulrich."  
  
"Ja, Tschüs Till. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreisher." Ulrich turned around and walked in the opposite direction of his friend. Mr. Landstreicher was right. It really was a beautiful day. It made him want to go home and see his mother. With that thought, he ran off down the street to the apartment building in which he resided on the 4th floor. It was a small apartment, but it was just the two of them so it was just big enough. His mother did work awfully hard to keep it furnished and looking pretty damn clean.  
  
As Ulrich approached the apartment building, he saw in front several police vehicles. A wave of fear went through him. Police cars were never a good sign, ever. He ran to the apartment. As he got closer, the thoughts started to flow into his head. Everybody was thinking about something. He stopped and grabbed his head, trying to make sense of them. "Christ, one at a time! Why do you people have to think so loud?!"  
  
He got to the front steps. One of his neighbors was standing on the front stoop. "Ulrich, you had better stay down here."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They went up to your apartment. It's probably best if you stay away from them."  
  
"But my mother." Ulrich ran up the 5 flights of steps to his apartment. As he got up the steps and turned the corner into his hallway, he saw the police officers coming down the hallway with his mother in tow; her hands cuffed around her back, kicking and screaming.  
  
"Mutter!"  
  
"Ulrich, Lauft!" she screamed down the hall. One of the officers said something to one of them and he came down the hall after Ulrich.  
  
Ulrich turned and flew down the steps with the cop on his tail. He ran out to the sidewalk and down the street. He didn't know what was happening. "What could Mother have done?" he thought to himself. "What could they want with her?" He looked behind him to see the cop still running after him. "Ach, mein Gott!"  
  
"Stop!" the officer called from behind him. "I said stop you little punk!"  
  
Suddenly, there was a break in the sidewalk and Ulrich caught his foot on it. He went flying through the air and landed with a hard thud on the ground. He could feel his skin rip as he slid across the pavement.  
  
Suddenly, he was grabbed by his hair and yanked upward. "When a police officer tells you to stop, you stop young man."  
  
Ulrich closed his eyes. He searched for the most remote place in his mind and buried himself there. His body went limp.  
  
"Hey, I'm talking to you." The man shook him. "Hey, boy." Ulrich didn't respond.  
  
In his mind, Ulrich kept saying to himself, "Stay with it..stay alert...stay attached..don't fall deeper in...you'll never come out.." He did this some times. If he felt threatened, he would hide in his mind. He felt nothing from the outside world and it was quiet in there. The one place where he couldn't hear everybody else. He's been very careful about hiding in there though. There was one time he fell into his mind and couldn't get out. He remembered how it scared his mother half to death. She said he'd been in a coma for 3 days. He promised never to do it again. "I should wake up now. I don't want to get too comfortable."  
  
The thoughts started to some back. Everybody at once. It felt like someone punched him in the brain. The pain subsided momentarily and he opened his eyes. He was lying on a bench in an office. A man walked in.  
  
"Oh, gut. You're awake. We weren't sure how long you would be there."  
  
"Where's my mother?" Ulrich asked the man.  
  
"You need not worry yourself about that. As soon as your paperwork is processed, you'll be out of here."  
  
Ulrich looked at him; burrowing his eyes into the side of the front of the man's head. Ulrich lay there, probing the man's thoughts. "I am not going to an orphanage."  
  
The man looked at him. "You don't have much of a choice, young man."  
  
Ulrich got up and walked over to the desk. He leaned over and looked the man strait in the eyes. "No, you listen to me old man, I.am.not.going.to.an.orphanage."  
  
The man looked at him. In an almost monotone voice, he said to Ulrich, "Of course you aren't."  
  
"You are going to go and see where my mother is."  
  
"Ja, I am." The man got up and left the room. Ulrich stood there staring at the chair where the man just sat. In a few moments, the man returned and sat back down. "Your mother is at another facility."  
  
"Then you are going to take me. Understand?"  
  
The man rose. "Yes, I do." He walked out of the room and Ulrich followed him. The two of them walk through the office building to the front and exited. The man's car was parked on the side of the building.  
  
But as they got around the building, the officer that had brought Ulrich in was coming toward them.  
  
"Hey, you," he yelled out to Ulrich. He came speed walking up toward where they stood.  
  
Ulrich panicked and pushed the man into the officer and ran the opposite way.  
  
He still had a mental link with the one man and told him to punch the cop. "That'll buy me some time anyway."  
  
Ulrich went running down the street. He looked behind him, but he never saw that cop. He wasn't sure how long he had been running, but the sun was setting and he was near the Wall.  
  
He stopped and looked to his left. If he went that way, he would go home which is where the cops probably still were and waiting for him, in which they would take him and he would end up in an orphanage and never see his mother again. He looked to his right. He could see the old man in the distance. If he went that way, he could hide from the cops for a while anyway and still possibly have a chance of finding his mother again.  
  
Ulrich turned to his right and walked down the street. He soon approached the old man. "Guten Abend, Hier Landstreisher. How are you?"  
  
"Ulrich, what are you doing out at this later hour?"  
  
"Tja.you will never guess what happened to me today." ************************************************************************ Two Years Later: New England, United States  
  
The door opened and a boy walked in. He walked across the room and opened the velvet curtains hanging from the large windows...  
  
"It's 7:00 Brad. You're going to be late for school."  
  
Bradley Crawford slowly opened his eyes to look at the underside of his pillow. "Morning already?" he said aloud to himself. He bent his neck up so the pillow fell from the shag on his head called hair back to the bed and then let his neck go limp so his head dropped back into his pillow; this time staring at the top side of it. "I don't want to go to school." He said to his brother who was still attempting to open the curtains on the 3rd and final window.  
  
"I don't think you have much of a choice," he said back. He walked across the room and was about to walk out of the room but stopped and turned to face Bradley's bed. "I want you to know that no matter what Dad says, I'm still on your side. Although, I hope you haven't taken what he said to heart.you know he's strict and set in his ways and all that shit."  
  
Brad set his arm on the pillow so he could see over the fluff that was in his face.  
  
His brother looked at him. He then crossed his arms and in a defensive tone said, "Not that I'm being mushy or anything, I'm just merely stating a fact."  
  
"Thank you. But you're too late. Dad has stated his point of view, which is the point of view of many of the people who live in this town, which he has so fondly pointed out, or should I say, thrown at me. This isn't the first time I've noticed it either," Brad turned over onto his back. "And besides, this isn't the first time I've thought about getting out of everybody's hair either. Believe me, the notion has been swimming through my head for quite some time now."  
  
His brother uncrossed his arms. "I wish you wouldn't go."  
  
Brad turned his head and looked at his brother. "Why?"  
  
He crossed his arms again. "Well.you'll be missed and you haven't even finished high school."  
  
"Who? Who will miss me? The town sure as hell won't. Dad would throw me out with his own two hands if he could pick me up and, hell mom is scared shitless of me. And as far as school goes, do I look like I give a rat's ass.have I ever given a rat's ass?"  
  
"You know, you used to always tell me, when people have made fun of me not to let it get to me; that it'll pass and eventually, no one will even notice. Well, maybe you should follow your own advice. Here you are ready to run to the other side of the world instead of facing it and letting it be.  
  
Brad sat up and stared at his brother to see if he was joking or not. When he decided that he wasn't, "You are a moron. You had a pimple problem. I have a mental problem. Unless I have a zit in my head and your acne can see the future, they are two different problems that can't be dealt with in the same way. Now get out of here."  
  
"Maybe I don't want to go. Maybe I want you to talk about this."  
  
"You're the one that doesn't want to be late for school. And since the bus is coming around the corner now, I'd suggest you get out of here."  
  
Brad's brother's eyes went wide. Suddenly he dashed down the hallway to the steps and downstairs to grab his stuff. "You'd better be in school later," he yelled back as he was flying down the steps, "or at least still here when I get home." He then slammed the front door.  
  
"Dumb-ass."  
  
Brad sat there in bed, thinking about everything, especially about the night before. How his father finally said everything he'd thought about Brad; everything. It's not as if he didn't know how his father felt, how everybody felt about him, but he never realized how bad it affected him when he actually heard it said aloud to him. As if he didn't have enough mental problems as it was. "Why am I putting up with this," he thought to himself. "If something is causing pain or suffering, isn't it logical to stop it or get away from it?"  
  
He stopped thinking. Brad flung the blankets off of him and got up. "That's it," he said aloud, "I'm outta here."  
  
*********************************************************************** 


	2. Zwei

Yeah, Chapter 2! You will all have to forgive me for making you wait so long for each chapter. Work is a bitch and takes up most of my time. Please be patient. I want to thank all of y'all who left a review for me, and don't worry, the Farf-meister will have his chapter. The only thing is, I don't want to put down anything from episode 18 (or 8 or which ever one that was) for those of you who don't like spoilers. For those of you who did see that episode, well you already know what happened with him. Well anywho, Weiß ain't mine, but many ideas are, blah, blah, blah, yackidy, shmackidy, on with the story.  
  
Brad walked over to his dresser and opened the 3rd drawer. He pulled out the pair of jeans that were on top and put them on. He the proceeded to open the top drawer and pull out a black T-shirt.  
  
As he was putting the shirt on, he looked at himself in the mirror that hung on the wall behind the dresser. He stopped and stared at himself.  
  
"I look normal enough?" He always found himself to be rather attractive physically, as narcissistic as that might seem. But it was his mentality that seemed to make him unattractive to the rest of the world.  
  
Bradley remembered it started when he was 10. Every now and again, he would see images in his mind. At first, he thought they were just minor daydreams, but then they all came true. Then he thought he was going nuts. And what did he do?  
  
"I panicked," he thought to himself. He ran out and told his mother, told his father, told his grandmother, who of course liked to tell everybody else. He made his parents take him to see a doctor; five doctors, in fact. All of them said the same thing, "Perhaps you just have some extra mental abilities. Here, take these pills twice a day. It'll help calm you down."  
  
So now he has mental abilities. His father said he is mental, his mother said he is a freak, his grandmother said he is a demon, the town said he is a monster, and the old lady down the street with the 50 cats said that he is the anti-christ.  
  
"In 7 years, everything has been blown out of proportion and I'm stuck in the middle of it. I've been exiled from my own fucking life and I don't think I ever truly realized it. Why does this have to happen to me?"  
  
He heaved a sigh and continued to get dressed. As soon as he put on his last sneaker that had magically appeared under his bed, he grabbed the biggest duffle bag in his closet and packed as much stuff into it as possible: another pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, a walkman, the 4 tapes that happened to be on his nightstand, deodorant, hairbrush, watch, some socks, and some underwear. Brad then went to the bathroom and got his toothbrush and the toothpaste and packed those.  
  
He opened the drawer on his nightstand and pulled out all of the money he had stashed there over the last 3 months.  
  
"$125.00. I probably should have more than this. I wonder what he has in his room?"  
  
Bradley walked down the hall to his brother's room. There on the dresser was his brother's piggybank where he kept all of his money. He grabbed it, sat on the bed and proceeded to go through.  
  
"I wonder how long he's been saving this up?" It probably took him a good 10 minutes to count all of the money now sprawled out onto the bed. "Wow. $467.58. Hope he wasn't planning on spending this anytime soon."  
  
Brad pocketed the money and replaced the bank. He then stopped and looked around the room for a pen and something to write on. All he could find was a pencil and some tissues. On one of them, he wrote, "Pay you back someday, Bradley," and stuffed it into the bank.  
  
"Well, maybe," he thought to himself.  
  
Brad went back to his room, grabbed the rest of his money and the bag and went downstairs. He went through the cabinets in the kitchen to find anything of sustenance that he could take with him.  
  
"Cookies." He shrugged and kept going through cabinets. "Aren't there any crackers or something else?" Nothing.  
  
"Well, cookies it is." He threw those into the bag.  
  
Brad stopped and looked around. In an odd sort of way he was going to miss this place; not the people, just the place. He walked out to the backyard and into the garage.  
  
"I have no home now. I'm just going wherever I take me.or Greyhound at least." He tied the now full bag to the back of his bicycle. "Easier to ditch," he thought to himself. With that, he was off to the bus station to see where he wanted to go. Luckily, it really wasn't that long a ride; maybe 15 minutes.  
  
When he got there, Brad set the bike against some bushes at the far end of the parking lot. "Maybe some lucky punk will find it." He strode into the station and looked at the schedule.  
  
"I don't want to be waiting here too long, ssooooooooo, what is the earliest one leaving the soonest?" He scanned the schedule again.  
  
"Hhmmmm, there is one for New York in 30 minutes." Brad stopped and thought about it. "Not a bad idea. It's a big city, lots of dreams happen, not that I have any to begin with. Okay, New York it is."  
  
He went up to the counter and bought the ticket and then went out to the bus. As he was stepping up into the vehicle, an image flashed through his mind. A tall man. Blond hair. Business suit. Dark eyes. Sitting on a park bench. Cross legged. "Bradley, well that isn't too respectable of a name."  
  
Bradley blinked and shook his head. "What was that?" he thought to himself.  
  
"I'd like to get on the bus sometime today," came a voice from behind him.  
  
Brad turned to see a short, fat man standing at the bottom of the steps. "Oh, I'm sorry." With that, he proceeded to the back of the bus. There were very little people back there. Solitude for the 4-hour drive ahead.  
  
He sat down, duffle bag still in hand, and relaxed into the seat. With a sigh, he said to himself, "New York City, here I come." 


	3. Drei

The words are just flowing out of my mind. Today, I was able to write a fair amount of the 3rd chapter at work. You should see the register tape flowing out of my pockets. It seems there are no notebooks or such at the front of the store. Disclaimer: "Schwarz" and some of the ideas for their origins belong to Koyasu Takehito-sama and Project Weiß. All other stuff came from the area between my ears. Oh.author's note. The character later on, Langly, imagine Muraki from "Yami no Matsuei" only with blond hair and not quite as murderous looking.sinister, yes.murderous, no. Like "Muraki-seducing-Tsuzuki" look. =) Another note. This is a revised version of the 3rd chapter. A couple of spots have thoughts that aren't specified, so I use //\\ instead of "". Obie-kabie? ********************************************************************  
  
  
  
Four some hours later: New York, New York  
  
Bradley opened his eyes as the bus came to a halt. He saw the other passengers getting up and moving toward the front. He ended up sleeping for most of the ride to the city, although he was kind of regretting it now because he had the worst kink in his neck.  
  
Brad massaged the one side of his neck with one hand and grabbed his bag with the other. He slowly walked out of the bus well after everybody else had left.  
  
He shrugged and walked into the terminal. The smell of funnel cakes hit his nose, which in turn made him really hungry since he didn't have breakfast and he remembered that he had those cookies in his bag. "The first thing I do is get something to eat."  
  
He sat down in the seating area and opened his bag. The cookies were right on top. Bradley reached into the bag and pulled out two chocolate chip cookies. Chocolate chip were defiantly his favorite. He looked around at all of the people walking about. A voice came over the loud speaker, though the voice was almost inaudible over all of the voices around him. After swallowing the final cookie, Brad got up and wondered up into the section of the terminal with all of the shops and such. He walked up and noticed all the way at the end was an opening to the outside world. So, of course, he headed that way.  
  
As he stepped out of the building, Brad looked around. "Well, it sure smells different," he said aloud; car exhaust, garbage, just dirty air in general. Although he swore he could smell pancakes far off in the distance.  
  
Brad looked to his left and then to his right. "Hmmm, which way should I go?" He of course had no idea where he was. Just out of sheer randomness, he turned to his left and walked straight. When he stopped at the corner waiting to cross, he looked up at the street sign. 7th Avenue. "Alright, well that gives me an idea of where I am."  
  
And so Bradley Crawford walked.and walked. He looked around at everything, soaking it all in, looking for anything that sparked his interest. But there wasn't anything really. He followed 7th all the way to Times Square and then kept on following the road as far as it would go. Obviously, he was going nowhere.  
  
He wasn't walking very fast at all. It took him almost an hour and a half to walk all the way up. But there he was, facing Central Park. "Well, where should I go now?" he thought to himself. He then remembered that vision he had earlier; the guy sitting on a park bench. Remembering that, he headed into the park.  
  
Brad walked into the park. He felt relaxed with the surroundings suddenly changing around him from busy city streets to green grass and chirping birds. As he walked down the paths provided, he almost forgot where he was. But he didn't forget that his legs were starting to hurt. There was a park bench on his right, so Brad put his bag on the bench and sat down next to it.  
  
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The breeze tossed his bangs around so he brushed them back with his hand as the tickling was starting to annoy him. He thought to himself, "I didn't plan this whole running away thing very well. I'm clueless as to what I want to do."  
  
Suddenly a voice from across the lane said to him, "Running away usually isn't a good thing to do. What was so wrong with your life before, that you had to leave?"  
  
Brad looked up. Sitting on the bench across from him was a blond haired man. He was wearing a business suit and sat there cross-legged. His dark eyes were burrowing into Brad's head.  
  
Bradley blinked. "Excuse me?" he said to the man.  
  
The man gave Bradley a quaint smile. "I said, what was wrong with your former life that you had to leave it so abruptly?"  
  
Brad froze. //Okay, this guy just said something that I was just thinking.\\  
  
"You're a very perceptive young man."  
  
Brad closed his mouth, which had seemed to have opened in the progression of his surprise and tried to regain his composure. "How did you know what I was thinking?" he asked the man in a defensive tone.  
  
The man smiled. "Because I can read your thoughts. I am a telepath."  
  
Brad blinked.again. He thought to himself, "A telepath? You've got to be kidding me.but then who ever heard of someone being able to see the future," he bit his lip, "I have got to stop thinking."  
  
"Oh," the man raised an eyebrow, "So you're a precog?"  
  
//Is that what I'm called?\\  
  
"Yes it is."  
  
This time he said aloud to the man, "What do you want?"  
  
"Well," he began, "first let me introduce myself. My name is Kendrick Langly. I am a telepath, as you so abruptly found out. The reason I said anything to you is because I find you to be interesting. I figured you had some sort of mental ability that most normal people don't possess. You are thinking how I knew you had some special ability of the mind, yes? Of course you are. Well, because you use more of your brain than most people, your mind is cloudier than everybody else's. I can't read it quite as well. Think of it like looking at a book without glasses. I can read thoughts you are thinking at this very moment in time, but probing your mind is difficult."  
  
Brad didn't like the sound of this guy probing minds, especially his. But at least his mind was supposedly difficult to probe. That gave him some comfort.  
  
"So you ran away from home. If I may guess at why, everybody knew about your mental abilities and deemed you mental, a freak, a monster."  
  
"Don't forget anti-christ," Brad thought to himself and he guessed to this Langly guy as well.  
  
".So you left so as to not put up with it anymore and here you are. I am willing to bet that you would like to prove to all those people that you are so much more than your basic freak, am I right?"  
  
Brad was really starting to dislike this guy. He hated it when someone brought how he was feeling or what he has thought about issues up to him. It's not like he didn't already know. But this guy took the cake. But he was right, in every aspect.  
  
"What if I told you that I would be willing to help you become more then what you are. You have a lot of potential. I can teach you to block telepaths like me from searching your thoughts."  
  
"I thought you said you couldn't read my thoughts," Bradley brought up to him.  
  
"No, I said you are difficult to read. I didn't say you were impossible. I might be able to even strengthen your abilities so you can use them to your advantage. So, what do you say?"  
  
Brad didn't know what to think. This guy that he doesn't really care for is offering to help him so he isn't so much of a freak as he is now; or maybe more of a freak. He didn't know. "Why would a high-class guy like yourself want to help an arrogant runaway like me?" he said to him.  
  
Langly smiled again. "I like a challenge. It's your choice. Would you rather come with me and live in luxury, mind you, refining for powers and becoming more cultured a person, or would you rather return to your unplanned runaway lifestyle?"  
  
You know, he has a good point. //Well, it would appear I don't have too many options.\\ Brad said, "When do we start?"  
  
The man smiled. "My car is just outside the park." Langly brushed some bang that the wind had blown over his eye. "You know, I never did get your name."  
  
Brad didn't answer right away. After a little while, he said, "Bradley Crawford."  
  
Langly frowned. "Hmmm.Bradley, well that isn't too respectable of a name. I think you should go by Crawford from now on. It seems to demand respect. Especially because it is your surname." He stood up. "Well, shall we be going, Crawford?"  
  
Brad stood up and took a hold of the handles of his bag. Respect. Yes, he would demand it from now on. "Alright, let's go."  
  
The two men walked off to exit the park. 


	4. Vier

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Inventory week sucks!! No time, no time at all! I'm sorry for taking so long, but time was just none existent this week. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. Yeah, Farfie is in it!!! Uuuuummmmm, see previous chapters for disclaimer. Side note: {{ }} means Brads precognitions. Okay? Enjoy!  
  
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The next year: New York, New York  
  
Crawford stared out of the window over the city. He thought it odd that a sunset gleaming off of smog could look kind of.pretty.  
  
So mush had changed about him since Kensington Langly took him under his wing the previous year. His mental abilities flourished profusely. Mr. Langly was finding it harder and harder to get into his mind, not that it was easy to begin with. His visions of the future were occurring more frequently, but they didn't bother Crawford as much as they used to. He finally accepted his precognitions as part of him and nothing to fight or be ashamed of.  
  
{{Kensington came up the elevator.}}  
  
He stepped away from the window and walked into he kitchen. There he made drinks for himself and his roommate. Kensington liked a dry martini, shaken not stirred. How cliché of him. Crawford himself was legally too young to drink, only 18, but Kensington didn't see any problem with him having a social drink now and then, just as long as he didn't get himself smashed. Vodka had become Crawford's favorite drink, so he poured himself a small glass of that.  
  
After setting the glasses on a tray, he brought them out to the living room and set them on the coffee table. Crawford sat down and picked up his glasses that were sitting there too. He remembered a time when he hated to wear these things, but hasn't minded lately. Besides the fact that he can see a lot clearer now, they seemed to add to his overall "look". In the short time he'd been here, Crawford had turned from a well- bred adolescent to a distinguished young man. Even Mr. Langly agreed that it was hard to tell he was only 18.  
  
The door to the large apartment opened and Kensington walked in. He set his briefcase on the ground and took his coat off. He walked into the living room to see Crawford sitting on couch with vodka glass in hand.  
  
"Good evening, Crawford. I trust you had a good day?" he said to Crawford as he loosened his tie and sat down with his martini.  
  
"It was fine," he said to Kensington.  
  
He took a sip of his martini. "I have something I want to discuss with you.  
  
Crawford raised an eyebrow at this. Discuss? He became very suspicious with the older man. Calmly taking a sip of his vodka, and making sure every mental barrier he possessed was in place, he asked Kensington, "What do you wish to discuss with me?"  
  
"How would you truly like to get revenge upon the world? What I mean is, other than proving to yourself that you are more than what you were told you could be."  
  
What on earth was he talking about? Crawford blinked, "Could you elaborate as to what you're telling me?"  
  
Kensington smiled, "Of coarse." He finished off his martini. "I am part of an elite and secret organization that would like to help people like you seek revenge on the rest of the human race. We can help you."  
  
Crawford sat there staring at him. An elite and secret organization? Granted revenge was a sweet thought, but he never truly thought about seeking it against everybody, just those who've hurt him personally.  
  
There's an organization whose basis is revenge? "Are you asking me if I want to join?" he finally asked Kensington.  
  
{{Kensington set a gun on the coffee table.}}  
  
"Well actually, no, I'm not asking you. As a member of this society, I recruit people who will follow us and help bring about our end goal."  
  
"Which is?" Crawford cut in.  
  
"Natural chaos of the world."  
  
Crawford blinked again. Okay, so this guy that helped him become what he is and taught him what he knows has a gun in his pocket and is part of a cult. And he thought today was just fine.  
  
Kensington continued, "There is a school on the outskirts of Berlin called Rosenkreuz. It's a boarding school of sorts that our new recruits go to. There, you will learn of our higher purpose and learn more about your abilities. I'm sure there are a couple of other precogs there."  
  
A light went off in Crawford's head. In the time he'd been here with Kensington, he was also taught to be more business-like and cultured. Mr. Langly taught him everything from stocks to how to hold a wine glass, not that he didn't already know that. But one of the things he was taught was German. Kensington told him that cultured people know more than one language. Crawford thought he sounded like a snob. He figured he would have been taught French or something. He thought it interesting when he was taught German. Now it made sense. Kensington planned this from the beginning.  
  
Crawford didn't like the sound of this.  
  
"I don't believe you have used all of your potential. But I believe you have enough power to help us in our ultimate goal. You can be of such use to us." Mr. Langly just continued to smile.  
  
Crawford asked him, "Who is this 'us'?"  
  
"We call ourselves Este."  
  
"And you aren't asking if I want to join you and this Este?"  
  
"No, I am not."  
  
Crawford frowned, "What if I refuse?"  
  
Kensington frowned himself and bowed his head. He leaned forward and reached behind him into what seemed like the back of his pants and pulled out a .45. He set the gun on the coffee table.  
  
Crawford stared at it.  
  
Kensington sat back. "Well, if you refuse, I will kill you." He paused. "I'll give you a moment to think about it." He got up and went to the kitchen. He came back maybe five minutes later and handed Crawford another glass of vodka. He sat down with another martini.  
  
Crawford held the drink in his hand. The two men sat there in silence for a while. To Crawford, it felt like forever.  
  
"Well," Crawford began, "Once again, you definitely strike a hard bargain."  
  
Kensington smiled, "It's part of my charm. Well, we should start packing. I already booked our flights to Germany tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. Make sure you pack everything because you most likely will not be coming back here.  
  
Crawford wondered what he meant by that.  
  
Kensington raised his martini up, "To Este. May our purpose be fulfilled."  
  
Crawford raised his glass and clinked it against Kensington's. "Yes.to Este." He sipped on the vodka trying to soak in the new change in his life.  
  
Crawford paused for a second. "We aren't going to have to hand flowers out at airports, are we?"  
  
Kensington raised an eyebrow at this comment. "What, do you think we're a cult or something?"  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Several Months Later: Blanchardstown, Ireland  
  
A small, lone figure wondered down the street. The light from the moon above was the only thing guiding its way down the road. It wasn't going anywhere really; it didn't have any place to go.  
  
The night was chilly. The figure pulled its shirt tighter around itself. It couldn't remember how long it had been wandering around the countryside. Maybe ever since that night its house was robbed..  
  
The details were so fuzzy from that time. From than on, days turned into months and it couldn't remember very much. He really didn't want to. It hurt so much. He wanted to blame something, someone.  
  
Exhaustion was coming over the figure. It stopped and sat down on the steps of the building there by the road. Rest. It folded its arms and let its head fall down as far as it would go and closed its eyes. Suddenly, a man appeared from atop the steps and walked down to see what the figure was.  
  
The man saw a little boy, roughly eleven years old, sitting at the bottom of the steps. The child was pale and his hair seemed even paler. His clothes were slightly tattered and he seemed like he hadn't had a bath in a while.  
  
The man sat next to the boy. "Is there something I can help you with lad?"  
  
The boy looked up to see a priest sitting next to him. He stared at the man. He didn't say anything.  
  
"Do you know where your parents are?"  
  
The boy felt tears coming to his eyes. "They are gone." The tears welled in his eyes. He felt so mad at this man for bringing it up to him. He tried to forget and he was fairly successful, but then this priest had to surface those memories again. Damn him.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that lad. Do you have a guardian you are with?"  
  
The boy didn't hear a thing the priest said. He was still thinking of how his parents were taken from him. It was so unfair. How could this happen? The priest was still talking to him about something, but the boy wasn't listening.  
  
This world was unfair. How can such unfair things happen to good people? How can God do this to good people? How can God do this? God?  
  
"God," the boy said allowed.  
  
"What did you say lad?" the priest asked him.  
  
"It was God. God did this. He took my family. It's his fault. It's your fault. You are one of God's children. You killed them. He killed them," the boy pulled a knife from somewhere in his shirt. "Your fault, you and your God."  
  
The boy plunged the knife into the priest's chest. The man let a horrifying sound rip from his lungs. He grabbed for the knife, but the boy pulled it out and stabbed it back into the man's chest. Again, he pulled it out and watched the man fall over dead.  
  
The boy stood up, knife in hand. "I hope I hurt you," he yelled at the priest, "and your God!" He looked down at the knife; blood dripping off of it and his hand. He flipped it over in his hand, staring at the blade. He brought the knife up to his mouth and licked the blood from the blade; the salty taste stinging his taste buds.  
  
A sense of satisfaction ripped through him. He had hurt the one that had hurt him. But, no, it wasn't enough. He had to hurt him more. More. 


	5. Funf

This was a hard chapter to write. I don't know how many times I rewrote this thing before I even remotly liked it. I do hope I've succeeded. My beta-tester liked it so I hope y'all will too. Weiß und Schwarz belong to Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. All other ideas are mine, with the exepction of a few from my beta-tester. Note: {{}} = Crawford precognitions Also, in my chapter titles, it is supposed to be fünf, but the thingy won't let me put the umlaut over the 'u' so it's not that I can't spell, it just won't let me do so. Danke.  
  
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Berlin, Germany: Six months later  
  
"Gaaahhhhh!"  
  
The punching bag swung back and then forward again. Crawford punched it back. "I hate this place!" He punched the bag repeatedly. All of his frustrations and hatred for this place guided each punch into the bag. With each punch, he yelled in his head everything he was feeling  
  
"I hate this building, I hate the people in it, I hate their ideals and their thought processes, I hate the stench of this place, I hate the sounds of this place, I hate everything!" The bag swung back this time and he caught it.  
  
Crawford leaned against the bag and breathed heavily into it. He felt a little better actually. All his frustrations out in a five-minute workout.  
  
The first few months in Rosenkreuz were unbearable. His ex-mentor, Kensington Langly, told him that this place was a boarding school. Well, some of that was true. But the 'boarding-school' excuse was just a façade used to keep the government from shutting them down. Although, Crawford didn't doubt that there was some government help in keeping them open.  
  
This place was a prison, plain and simple. All of the 'students' were watched like hawks. The only place there wasn't a guard was the dorm rooms, but they all had room mates, at least the first and second year students. If anything was said that the higher-ups didn't like, then you were punished. Just last week, he was talking to another student that came from Minnesota and the boy asked Crawford if he had ever read "1984". He came to find out that the boy is now in solitary confinement somewhere in the sub-basement of this place.  
  
Crawford turned and laid on his back on the floor. He stared at the ceiling, thinking to himself, "At least he's of some value," referring the boy. He came to find that you could tell how much each person is worth to the school. If a student is of any value, they are usually just placed in solitary for a week as punishment if they receive any. If they are just there because they were recruited and really serve no purpose to these people, then they are shot on site, in front of everybody who happens to be standing there.  
  
Crawford winced at the memory of when he first got here. He was in the mess hall eating what appeared to be food and one of the Este instructors just shot this one girl that was sitting three tables in front of him. The site of the hole in her head at the time made his stomach lurch. No one really knew why they had killed her, either that or no one wanted to talk for fear of their own life.  
  
{{A woman walked into the gymnasium.}}  
  
Crawford sat up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. There were all sorts of different people in the school. Plenty of telepaths and empaths. There were even healers and some teleketics. But, of all of them, there was one particular person who made him the most uncomfortable and that was the one other precog in this entire building. And of course, she was his new 'mentor'. Mentor was probably too strong.too nice a word. She was there to make sure he conformed to Estes' ideals.  
  
The woman walked into the gymnasium. He heard the clicking of her heels on the floor. He turned his head and saw her form approaching him.  
  
"Guten Tag, Herr Crawford," she said to him as she stopped behind him.  
  
He sighed slightly. "Fräulein Menschenfeind." He looked up to see her smiling down at him.  
  
As uncomfortable as he was around her, he found that kissing her ass was always a good idea. It just so happened that she was the highest- ranking person in the entire building, the dean of the school you could say. It also seemed that she had taken a liking to him, so if he wanted something, as long as it was in the bounds of Este and her own abilities, then she would gladly grant him almost anything. Though, he tried to stay away from her as much as he could.  
  
"Are you going to get changed before you go to dinner?" she asked him.  
  
Crawford began to get up. "Ja, I am. Is that all you came in here for?"  
  
He was now standing up and looking at her. She said to him, "No actually, I wanted to tell you to stop by my office after the meal because I want to talk to you about a something."  
  
Of course, she wasn't going to give any hint as to what she wanted to speak to him about. Crawford felt slightly nervous about this, but gave no indication of it. "Alright, after dinner I will stop by and we can talk."  
  
"Gut." She turned and walked away. "I will see you later then."  
  
He stood there looking at her back as she exited the room.  
  
{{She stood in front of him talking.}}  
  
Okay, harmless enough. Crawford went to get changed and proceeded to the mess hall. The sounds of voices hit his ears as he walked into the massive room. The smell of something half edible hit his nose, and he then realized how hungry he was. He drifted over to get a tray of food and found a place to sit.  
  
As Crawford sat there eating, he thought to himself that it was amazing that these people even talked at all let alone to each other. All of there conversations were being listened to and if any of them slipped up and said the wrong thing.  
  
This was why he rarely ever said anything to anybody. He didn't know whom to trust. He felt it better to just keep his mouth shut and he might get out of here with his life, if the curriculum didn't kill him first. The one thing he did thank that Langly guy for was he teaching Crawford to strengthen his mental barriers. So he could at least think to himself without being disturbed by the residing telepaths. He was trying to work on keeping his emotions in check though. His roommate just happened to be an empath and that guy always let Crawford know just what he was feeling. He seemed to be getting better, not showing emotion. But he still expressed it, somehow. Crawford really hated that guy.  
  
He was thinking of asking Fräulein Menschenfeind if he could have another roommate. And now that he was thinking about it, what could she want to talk to him about? He was clueless. Crawford shoveled the side dish into his mouth, whatever it was. He was kind of nervous about what it was. Especially since it was her that wanted to talk to him. She had the power to make him disappear without a trace or to rise him up in the ranks. Rising up in ranks meant getting out of here sooner. That was definitely on his mind. He picked his drink up and took a sip still thinking about what was to come.  
  
{{She put her arms around him}}  
  
Crawford spit his drink out all over the tray in front of him. A couple of the other students looked at him.  
  
"I swallowed too much," he said to them and they all went back to there meals. Crawford wiped his mouth with the napkin and put the tray in the disposal pile. He quickly walked back to his dorm room.  
  
"Oh, that was not nice," he thought to himself on his way back. Why would she be doing that? Oh, the thought of her in physical contact with him made him shiver. Crawford opened his dorm room door and went in. "Oh good, he isn't here," he said aloud to himself.  
  
He sat on his bed and stared off into oblivion. What should he do? If he didn't go, he could get in trouble, one: because he skipped a meeting with his mentor and two: because he skipped a meting with the dean. If he went, he could always avoid the contact since he knew she was going to do something. But she's a precog too, so she would probably see that he would try to block her and already have a counterattack waiting and he would just be screwed. He shivered at the thought.  
  
"Okay, I'll just go and get it over with. Maybe I'm just over reacting." Crawford left the room and headed for the dean's office. He felt his hand shaking as he raised it to knock on the door. It wasn't moving, but he felt for sure that he could feel it doing so.  
  
He knocked.  
  
"Come in," came a voice from the other side of the door.  
  
Crawford opened the door and walked in to see Fräulein Menschenfeind sitting behind her desk. "Please, come in Crawford," she motioned for him to sit on the couch that was in front of the desk. She rose and sat on the couch opposite him.  
  
"Well," she began, "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here. I've noticed that your mind seems to be elsewhere during your lessons. I am worried that this will interrupt your grasping of the concepts that we are teaching you. Is there anything that I could do to help one of our most prominent students?"  
  
Crawford blinked. "Well," he tried to think of some bullshit story really fast, "I suppose I am bored with most of the studies because I was already taught so much by my former mentor." Hey, that story wasn't too bad.  
  
"Ah yes, Kensington Langly. He always was a good teacher. Almost too good. It seems he did teach you much of what you will be learning in your first two years here. It is almost silly to make you do it again."  
  
"Yes, very silly," Crawford thought to himself. Maybe that asshole was good for something.  
  
"It would seem logical to put you in past what you have learned thus far."  
  
Crawford nodded. "Yes, very logical. Actually, I've been thinking of asking you about possibly advancing me further up the ranks so I could learn new things and not have to hear what I've already been taught. And besides, the sooner I complete the courses here, the sooner I can serve the greater good of Este." He smiled and thought to himself, "God Brad, you are such a bullshiter."  
  
Menschenfeind thought for a moment. "I've never advanced someone up in the ranks before. It is asking a lot you know. If I may be so blunt, I think I should receive something out of it, this request be so out of the ordinary."  
  
Crawford stopped smiling. He thought he could figuratively see where this was going. The image of her with her arms around him came back and he shivered again. "What kind of favor did you have in mind?" he asked.  
  
She sat there looking at him. Then a smile came to her face. "Well," she moved over and sat beside him, "being the highest ranked person here can make my job rather lonely."  
  
"What a slut," Crawford thought. He knew exactly where this was going.  
  
"Nobody ever comes and visits me."  
  
Gee, I wonder why.  
  
"So, I'll tell you what, if you.stay the night with me.I'll advance you up to a 3rd year student."  
  
Third year! No more roommates, no more cleaning detail, no more physical labor, more freedom, a bigger dorm room, possibly not having to deal with her anymore.  
  
"I will have to think about it." Crawford got up before she could drool on him.  
  
She sat back into the couch and smiled at him. "Okay, you think about the opportunities of being a 3rd and not a 1st. Be here at 9:00 tonight. If you don't show up, then I will see you on cleaning detail tomorrow at 7:00."  
  
Crawford left the room and went back to his own. His roommate was there this time. "Where have you been Crawford?" he boy asked him.  
  
"Nowhere of any importance to you." He laid on his bed with his back to the boy. What should he do? The idea of being with her. Okay, it wasn't necessarily the woman herself, she was actually quite attractive for a woman, but it was the fact that she was this Este in human form and she walked, talked and breathed Este, and if he were to sleep with her, it would be like sleeping with his greatest enemy. But.she could make him a 3rd year student and that was too appealing to give up. Two years of torture done in one night.  
  
Oh, what was he going to do? Continue with this hell or sleep with that woman. It then dawned on him that this would have been his first time. He never really thought about it before. He never was with anybody back home cause nobody wanted anything to do with him back home. And thank God that Langly guy never touched him. That thought made him gag. He suddenly thought it was really funny that he never really thought about sex up until now especially since it was the first thing on any other boy's his age mind.  
  
Now he was faced with a dilemma. "To fuck or not to fuck, that is the question."  
  
"Did you say something?" his roommate asked him.  
  
"No I didn't say anything." He looked at the clock. Wow, 8:47. He didn't realize how long he had been thinking. He sat up and looked at his roommate who was picking his nose on the other side of the room.  
  
That was the last straw. He got up and headed toward the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" the boy asked.  
  
"I am going to visit Fräulein Menschenfeind." Crawford left and walked to the dean's office. He was trying to think of good thoughts about the outcome of all of this. Maybe he could boss around the little 1st year recruits or get a dorm with an office attached to it like the higher ranked instructors. He got to her door. Now he felt nervous.  
  
{{She thrust her head back in pleasure}}  
  
He was about to turn around and walk away when the door opened. Menschenfeind stood there in a silk bathrobe. He didn't think she had anything underneath.  
  
"I am glad you came. Please come in."  
  
Crawford stood there.  
  
"Oh, you're nervous. Don't worry, I won't hurt you." She took his hand and gently pulled him into the office. She closed the door softly. 


	6. Sechs

Woo-hoo! Goodness this is a long chapter. I hope y'all will enjoy it. Note the rating change. This chapter starts the NC-17 portion. Why? Because Schu meets Brad, that's why. Disclaimer: This stuff belongs to KT and Prj W. Have fun!  
  
Two Years Later: Berlin, Germany  
  
Crawford picked up the 9MM and aimed at the target down the range. The tiny little red bull's-eye was in his sites. He pulled the trigger.  
  
Dead center of the red dot.  
  
"You're a crack shot young man," came a voice from off to the side.  
  
Crawford turned to see an instructor walking up to him. "Oh, Danke, Herr Doktor," he said to the man as he set the pistol on the table in front of him.  
  
The man smiled at him. "I want to talk to you later about your recruiting assignment you will have to complete soon. I have an appointment I have to attend in half an hour, but if you could stop by my office, say about 3:00, I would like to talk to you about it."  
  
"Yes, of course. Three o'clock then."  
  
"Gut. I will see you later." The Doctor turned and walked away from the firing range.  
  
Crawford let out a puff of air that flipped his bangs up and around. He has been trying to put off this recruiting assignment that every 4th year student has to do. He didn't want to do it.  
  
He gathered his stuff and walked back to his dorm room. When he was promoted to a 3rd year student last year, at first it didn't seem too bad. He got this nice big dorm room all to himself, and the 'curriculum' seemed to get better. In this past year and a half he's learned several fighting techniques including using his precognitive powers to see what his opponent will do next. It's come in very handy. They've taught him all sorts of planning strategies and spying strategies and computer skills and he couldn't even rattle off everything he's learned.  
  
But the one thing that hit him the hardest was when they taught him how to kill. He could still remember that one-day.  
  
He was still at 3rd year status and him and a bunch of the other 3rd year students were ushered into a large room. They all stood behind a table and on the table were guns of many sorts. He just figured that it was just another firing exercise. The instructor walked in and started talking. "As initiators of the new world order, you will be required to do away with anything or anybody that stands in our way and the way of truth." The man raised his hand and a door at the far end of the room opened and several people were shuffled in. They all stood at the far end against the wall. The man continued. "These people are not part of our cleansing of this world. They are your enemy and an enemy must be destroyed. That is your job. That is your calling. If you cannot destroy that which taints this world, than you are a taint as well and you will be destroyed along with these.things"  
  
He wanted them to do what? Crawford looked down at the people standing down against the wall. All of them scarred out of their wits. He even recognized a couple of them, new students that disappeared months ago. He didn't know what to do. He knew that he eventually would have to kill somebody, but he never imagined that it would be quite like this. Being forced to kill in this way, hell this was an execution of people who didn't deserve it, not in this manner.  
  
He heard a shot and saw one of the people fall. Everybody turned and looked at the one guy on the end holding the gun up, his hand shaking.  
  
"Congratulations son, you are worthy of bring back the natural order of things," the instructor praised him.  
  
Crawford looked straight at the person in front of him. He focused on her barely hearing the other gunshots periodically going off to the sides of him. He thought about what the instructor had said about an enemy having to be destroyed. He found it ironic that these Este agents were teaching him to destroy, a skill he will use to oppose that which made him. If he didn't kill that girl down there, than they would kill him and he would never be able to oppose them later.  
  
Crawford picked up the gun in front of him and aimed at the girl. "Remember," the instructor called out, "For the good of the world."  
  
"Yes," Crawford thought, "For the good of your downfall." He pulled the trigger. No thoughts, no emotions, nothing but necessity guiding the bullet into the girl's chest.  
  
Later that night, he remembered crying to himself that night, the first time since he could remember in a long time. The shock of taking another life hit him harder than he ever thought it could. He laid there in his bed, curled up, shaking. He felt so sick that night.  
  
The experience made him stronger he thought, though it was just one more thing he now hated about Este and himself.  
  
********************************************  
  
Three o'clock rolled around and he went to the Doctor's office. The door was ajar so Crawford popped his head in. "Allo?"  
  
The Doctor popped his head up from behind his desk. "Ah, Crawford! Come in, come in. Is it 3:00 already? Gee, time sure does fly. Sit, sit."  
  
Crawford walked into the office and sat down in the high winged-back chair in front of the desk. The Doctor looked to be somewhere in his mid sixties. He had heard the man was a former Este agent and was put in this position because he was getting too old for the field. If it wasn't for that fact, Crawford suspected that he could get along with the man considerably. The Doctor reminded him of an air headed professor you would find at some university back in the States. The one with the mis-matched socks, backwards tie and rather unorganized. He seemed so kind, yet his life was serving these people. Guess you can't tell a book by its cover.  
  
The Doctor sat down; a folder in his hand. "Well, anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your recruiting assignment that you will have to be doing soon. As you already know, every 4th year student has to recruit one person to follow in our footsteps leading up to the rebirth of the world. Well, I have just the person for you, so I hope you didn't have anybody I mind." He started to flip through the papers in the folder. "We have had our eye on this one for a long time. About, ummmmm, I think about 5 or 6 years now."  
  
He handed the folder to Crawford who took it and started flipping through the papers and photos. The Doctor continued, "He is a very strong telepath, which is why we've had so much trouble getting to him. We've tried to get a hold of him while he was young and put him into our juvenile facility down in the sub-basement. But he's eluded us."  
  
Crawford looked at one of the pictures. It was a black and white photo of a young man standing next to a building of sorts. He didn't seem too old, maybe 17 or 18. He was so bad at telling peoples' ages. He was a thin fellow, with wild dark hair and piercing eyes.  
  
"For awhile we lost him, but our agents have found him again. He works on the other side of the city as a prostitute and goes by the name of Schuldig. He's very sociable so it won't be hard getting close to him."  
  
"A guilty prostitute, huh?" Crawford thought to himself with a slight smile. He flipped through a couple of the other photos. Aloud, "If he's so sociable, then why is it hard to get a hold of him?"  
  
The Doctor propped his head up with his fist, "Well, because he's a strong telepath. He can get into peoples' minds without them knowing and tell them to do things. Which is why anyone who's gone after him have either lost him entirely, ended up two towns away, or have woken up in a hotel room the next morning."  
  
Crawford blinked at this notion. Mental controlling? This guy was strong. No wonder Este wanted him.  
  
"This, of course, is where you come in. You have become quite famous at being one of very few people who can block telepaths from your head. So, since he is the strongest telepath that we've encountered, why not send the strongest telepathic-blocker we have? I have already squared it away with that advisor lady of yours.umm.what's-her-name."  
  
"Fräulein Menschenfeind?"  
  
"Ja, that one. I really do hate that woman. But anyway, she said it was a wonderful idea. She has every confidence in your abilities, and quite frankly, so do I."  
  
Crawford closed the folder and stood up. "Well, I will be happy to recruit this young man for you and for Este. I will do my best. When should I start?"  
  
"Tonight would be great. The sooner the better."  
  
"Danke Herr Doktor." The Doctor nodded and Crawford left the room. He headed to the mess hall to get something to eat.  
  
Crawford actually kind of felt relieved a bit. He was having a hard time with this because he didn't want to put anybody into this place. He hated it. Why would he want to put somebody else through it? But now he was handed somebody to choose. He didn't choose this person himself, so it isn't his fault. That's how he had to look at this. He is just the middleman, the bystander, albeit, not innocent.  
  
***************************************  
  
Crawford stepped out of the front gates of Rosenkreuz. It had been two years since he'd been outside of these gates. His first instinct was to run as far away as he could. But he would be shot there if he ran. If they didn't kill him there, they would hunt him down and kill him elsewhere. So he didn't run. He started to walk down into the city to catch a cab to the other side of Berlin. There he would kill again. Not necessarily taking a life literally, but even figuratively, it would hurt.  
  
He caught the cab and headed to the bar where he would find this, Schuldig. He thought about how he was going to do this. He decided to go with the strategy his ex-mentor had used on him. It worked then; it would most likely work now.  
  
The cab stopped in front of the bar. Crawford got out, paid the fair and walked to the front door. He heaved a sigh and walked in. Cigarette smoke and alcohol hit his nose with a vengeance. The smell nearly knocked him out. Just then, a woman came up and put her arm around Crawford and in a flirty tone said to him, "You looking for a good time stranger?"  
  
Crawford froze. Think about what you came here for. "Umm.you wouldn't happen to know a man that goes by the name of Schuldig?"  
  
The woman took her arm off of Crawford and looked at him disappointed. "Oh. Too bad. Schudig is over in the corner," she pointed to the far corner of the bar.  
  
It was hard to see through the smoke, but he just make out a group of men sitting around a table, steins in hand, laughing to each other.  
  
Crawford headed over to the table. He stood there, but the men didn't even seem to notice his presence.  
  
"Which one of you is Schuldig?" he asked the table.  
  
One of the men said to him, "Well Sir, we're all a little guilty in some way." All the men laughed.  
  
This annoyed Crawford. "Let me rephrase that, which one of you goes by the name of Schuldig?"  
  
"Who wants to know?"  
  
"I'm a man with an offer for such a person." Crawford thought he recognized which one of the men was his target, so to speak, but he waited for him to say something.  
  
The redheaded man asked him, "What kind of an offer is it?"  
  
Crawford looked at him. "Well, if we could talk in private, I will let you know."  
  
The men all started to look around at each other. The redheaded man stood up. "Well, it is my night off, but for a pretty face like yours, I'll make an exception."  
  
Schuldig gulped down the last of his beer and walked over to Crawford. "Well, are we going to go?"  
  
Crawford started out and Schuldig followed. The two men walked out of the bar. Crawford was thankful to get out of there. He felt he was going to have to take five showers just to get the smell off of him.  
  
"Well, where did you have in mind? I know this great hotel a couple of blocks away."  
  
"Right here will be fine," Crawford said motioning to an alley.  
  
Schuldig stopped. "An alley? You know, I have a little more class then that and I thought you did too. But then, I am always up for strange and exotic places." Crawford started down the alley.  
  
Schuldig followed him. He didn't know what to think of this guy. He couldn't read his mind at all. It was just like hitting a wall. Granted, it's not as if he had to tell this guy what to do, since he seemed willing to pay him, although, Schuldig was curious about the alley.  
  
"Right here is fine," Crawford said.  
  
Schuldig looked at him "I'm not going to have to lie on the ground, cause I know what has been on there, and that's just nasty."  
  
"No, you aren't going to have to lie on the ground."  
  
"Oh good." Schuldig pushed Crawford against the wall and planted his lips on Crawford's neck. He slowly moved up along his chin and over his cheek.  
  
Crawford stood stalk still. The man smelled like smoke, booze, and who knew what other kinds of narcotics. Schuldig was moving down to his chin. As long as he didn't kiss him on the lips.  
  
Schuldig liked the way this man smelled.like honey. His skin was soft and tasted good. He moved down his neck and started sucking on his Adams apple.  
  
"I hear you are a man of many talents." Crawford began.  
  
Schuldig pulled away long enough to say, "I like to believe so, and so do many other people." He started to unbutton Crawford's shirt and move his lips down to his chest.  
  
Crawford was getting kind of nervous now. "I also hear you are a very strong telepath."  
  
Schuldig stopped. He pulled his lips away from Crawford's skin and slowly stood up to look Crawford in the eyes. He squinted his own. "Who are you?" he asked in a very defensive tone.  
  
Crawford relaxed a little. "Well, you can call me Crawford. I was sent here to tell you that you have been chosen to help me and others like you to bring about a new world order. You possess the ability to bring down the filthiness of this world and bring back the original chaos."  
  
Schuldig blinked. "Oh, one of you. I thought I lost you guys for awhile."  
  
"We need you. Este needs you." He was so good at talking shit.  
  
"And if I don't want to come?" Schuldig backed away from him.  
  
"Well," Crawford began, "You do have a choice of course. I'll give you until twelve-noon tomorrow to decide. If you show up here and decide to join us, well good. If you show up and decide not to join us, I will kill you. If you don't show up at all, I will hunt you down and kill you."  
  
Schuldig stared at him. He couldn't read Crawford's mind so he couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not. He looked like he was telling the truth.  
  
Crawford walked past him and out of the alley. "Bis später, Schuldig." He disappeared from Schuldig's sites. 


	7. Sieben

Oh wow. I don't believe I wrote this. Well, I hope this one turned out as well as I think it did. Disclaimer: Schwarz belong to Koyasu-san and Project Weiß. All other ideas are mine. Oh yeah, don't forget: {{}} = Crawford precognitions ************************************************************************  
  
One month later: Berlin, Germany  
  
Schuldig leaned against the wall by one of the entrances to Rosenkreuz. He lifted his cigarette to his lips and inhaled. He felt he needed something stronger than a slight nicotine fix. The voices were especially concentrated in this place and he found it very hard to escape.  
  
How did he let himself fall victim to these people? Did he really value his life that much? He's always hated his life. Why now did he suddenly fear for it? Maybe it was the fact that these assholes threatened it. Maybe he felt that only he was worthy enough to take his own life and not these scumbags. Perhaps that was it.  
  
This first month was really hard on Schuldig. He was analyzed by every doctor they had in this place; poked, prodded, probed, hooked up to electrodes, brain wave reading machines. He really didn't like it. But they promised him that they would help him build up his mental barriers to stop the voices, so that sounded appealing.  
  
Oh, the voices. He had been in crowded areas before, but he always had the option to leave. He was stuck here. Voices all around him. Too many voices. It was so hard for him to relax in this place. He couldn't think. Granted he'd always had a hard time thinking to himself anyway, but this was ridiculous. His roommate thought he was crazy cause Schuldig constantly talked to himself. One way he could possibly sort his own thoughts from others.  
  
He hated his 'gift'. Schuldig didn't see why these Este people found it so appealing. They wanted him so they could control his mind reading abilities. He could barely control his abilities. He possessed few barriers in his mind, which is why, he could 'hear' everyone around him. The few he possessed kept him from falling into his own mind. Although, there are times.  
  
One month here and he already wanted out. Even if he had to give his measly life up to these people, he couldn't do this.  
  
"You know those things aren't good for your health," came a voice from off to the side. Crawford walked up to where Schuldig was standing.  
  
"Do I look like I care?" he said to Crawford as he took one last drag of the cigarette and threw it to the ground. This was the one guy he trusted the least out of everybody their; his 'mentor'. He held this guy in such contempt. Schuldig blamed Crawford for his being here. He was the one that didn't give him a choice and he was the one who had the ability to find him. Him and his fucking mind.  
  
Though as much as Schuldig hated Crawford, he was still intrigued by him. He was the only person that was just a form to him. Everybody else was a mind, but not this guy. Which was another reason why he hated him so. Schu couldn't read him at all. This guy showed no emotion, no expression whatsoever. He just talked about the good of Este and the outcome of their goals and all sorts of other bullshit. And this guy won't shut up about it. Schuldig couldn't care less. It means nothing to him. But this guy holds these assholes in such high esteem and keeps trying to ground their beliefs and his beliefs into his already sore brain. One day, he's going to deck Crawford.  
  
Crawford leaned on the wall next to Schuldig. "I've been told that you haven't been paying attention during the lectures you've attended. I hope that isn't the case."  
  
"And if it is?"  
  
"Well, inattentiveness is punishable, you know that?"  
  
Schuldig stepped away from the wall. "Ja, I know. So what are you going to do about it?"  
  
Crawford sighed. "Why don't you stop by my office later and we can talk about this."  
  
"Yeah, whatever." Schuldig walked away and disappeared into the building.  
  
God Crawford hated this. Trying to force himself to believe this shit for the sake of this one assignment was so hard. But he had to pretend all of this. If any of his superiors found out that he wasn't teaching their newest recruit everything that he was supposed to, then he didn't want to imagine what they would do to him.  
  
He was such a liar, he felt like such a hypocrite. He had been trying to oppose everything they ground into his skull for the past two years and here he was trying to ground the same shit into some innocent guys head. And Schuldig was not making it any easier. Alright, fine. This guy didn't seem to buy all this shit. But now Este was going too jump down his throat because their star student isn't even close to becoming theirs.  
  
Maybe he should just tell Schuldig that he was saying all this crap so he might keep his head. Maybe then that guy wouldn't look at Crawford with such contempt. Although, if he kept making it known to everyone that he didn't give a shit, they might just kill him anyway. Either that or dissect his mind.  
  
Either Schuldig really didn't care or he was really stupid. He must know that Este won't stand for defiance against them. Alright, he was going to give it one more chance, and then he was ready to give up on Schuldig.  
  
Crawford walked back to his office. Well, it wasn't necessarily an office per say. His dorm room was divided into two halves, a workspace and a sleeping space. The work half was his 'office' and had a desk, chair, and couch for guests. There was a door in the corner that led to his bedroom. He also got a bathroom in his bedroom, which was the one thing he loved the most. Fourth year students were definitely treated better. It wasn't an enormous dorm, but it suited him and his needs.  
  
He went in and took a seat behind his desk. In the mean time he didn't have anything else to do so he sat there, contemplating what he was going to say to Schuldig. Crawford kind of felt sorry for the guy, as much as he really didn't care for him. He had a big mouth.too big. He wondered if Schuldig ever thought about what he was going to say or do before he actually went through with it. He highly doubted it.  
  
{{Schuldig walked into the office.}}  
  
Crawford sighed. "Well, here we go," he thought to himself. "You know, it's a good thing he can't read my thoughts cause he'd probably kick my ass for the shit I think about him."  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
Schuldig walked into the office, closing the door behind him. He stepped a little into the room, but remained more by the doorway. "Well, what do you want?"  
  
Crawford looked at him. He seemed kind of short for an 18 year old. Though his red hair stood out immensely. He was rather attractive, for a boy. Actually, he was very attractive for a boy.  
  
Crawford shook that thought off. "You are going to have to start listening Schuldig. The stuff we are teaching here is stuff that you will need to survive, to bring out the future."  
  
Oh, yay, more of this shit," Schuldig thought to himself. "I don't want to be listening to this. I have enough to listen to already."  
  
".is willing to help. Schuldig, are you listening?"  
  
Schuldig looked at Crawford. "Yeah, I'm listening."  
  
"No you aren't." Crawford looked at him with his cool eyes. "You know, I have tried to help you become more than what you are, more than what you were, but you don't seem to want to accept our help."  
  
Schuldig raised his one eyebrow, "How perceptive of you."  
  
Why was he starting to irritate him? Crawford blurted out, "You need us, you damned kraut! If it wasn't for me, you'd still be just another common street whore!"  
  
Schuldig blinked. He didn't believe Crawford just said that.  
  
Crawford stood up. "I don't believe I just said that," he thought, "I hope I'm not starting to really believe this stuff." He regained any composure he lost in his outburst. "I am going to get my meal for this afternoon. I hope in the meantime, you think about what we're trying to do for you."  
  
Schuldig was extremely pissed. This guy, who he doesn't really care for just insulted him to his face. Oh, Crawford drove him nuts.  
  
As Crawford walked past him to get to the door, Schuldig, in one quick motion, grabbed Crawford's arm, kicked the back of his knees and pinned him to the wall.  
  
He leaned over and spit into Crawford's ear, "I don't care! I don't care about Este, or this school, and I don't care about you and your holier than thou ideals. So go and run off to your superiors and tell them that I think they are a bunch of psychos and that they are full of shit and that I don't care. If they want to kill me because I'm not conforming, fine! I don't give a shit!"  
  
"God, he's fast," Crawford thought to himself, his knees hurting from hitting the ground. His face in the wall didn't feel to good either. "He's fucking strong for a kid."  
  
Schuldig held Crawford against the wall with all of the strength he had. He wished he knew what he was thinking. Schu really wanted to torture him, to pay him back for the torture Crawford had put him through over this past month.  
  
Schuldig moved his hand that was holding Crawford's head against the wall down along his shoulder, down his arm, across his waist. He could feel each curve of his body beneath his thin dress shirt. Schu pressed his nose into the back of Crawford's head, inhaling his black hair. "God, you smell like honey. I love honey."  
  
Crawford tensed. He knew where this was all going. Schuldig moved his hand from Crawford's waist, caressing down to his thigh and over to his groin. Schuldig squeezed.  
  
Crawford let out a sharp breath. That wasn't pleasure he was felling, was it?  
  
Schuldig leaned and whispered in Crawford's ear, "If you want me to stop, just say so and I will. But don't lie, because I'll know."  
  
Crawford closed his eyes. "You can't read my mind, you know that."  
  
Schuldig started to undo Crawford's pants. "Yes, this is true, but I am a keen observer, and I'm willing to bet that you saw this whole thing coming and you didn't do a damn thing."  
  
Crawford could feel his erection forming. Oh, Schuldig was so right. He did see this whole thing coming. Schuldig had his pants opened now and was starting to move his underwear down.  
  
Should he say something? Did he want this to stop? He didn't know. He shouldn't be doing this, he real.Ah!  
  
Schuldig started to stroke Crawford's erection slowly. Crawford started to relax a bit; the rhythm of Schuldig hand moving along his length was almost hypnotizing. Schuldig pulled him back from the wall and leaned him on his chest, not missing a beat.  
  
Schuldig moved his hand faster exciting Crawford more. He didn't know what to think, he didn't know what to feel. Crawford couldn't tell if Schuldig was getting off on this or not. Should he do anything? He was too mesmerized to do anything at all.  
  
Crawford breathed faster; his breathe matching Schuldig hand movements. He could feel an orgasm coming on. This was so wrong. He didn't like this guy and Schuldig hated him yet here Schuldig was, giving him pleasure he had never felt in his life.  
  
Schuldig was moving so fast. He couldn't contain himself any longer. Crawford arched his back away from Schuldig.  
  
"Oh, my God!"  
  
His cum shot straight onto the wall in front of them both. Schuldig gently let go of him and brought his cum covered fingers up to Crawford's mouth. Schuldig gently touched his lips as Crawford was still breathing heavily.  
  
Schuldig whispered into Crawford's ear, "I am not one to be insulted or dominated. That was for this past month and everything you put me through. I'll make sure I put it on your tab, Crawford."  
  
Schuldig got up, letting Crawford drop to the floor, still exhausted from his advances. Schu left the room leaving Crawford sprawled out on the floor with his pants still open.  
  
Crawford was stunned; speechless. What the hell was that? He just got a hand-job from some kid that he doesn't really even like. He stared at the ceiling. "I really have to get a new job." 


	8. Acht

Alright, here it is.the *Lemon* chapter. I have been contemplating over this chapter for a while now. I thank all of you who helped me in my decision to post this version of chapter eight. For those of y'all who wanted to keep with the drama, sorry, but I decided with the majority. Don't worry, there will be more drama, just not this chapter. I am also supposed to dedicate this chapter to my sister Nagi-chan because she ran all the way up the my room (which is the 3rd floor mind you) to get my writing portfolio so I could start writing this chapter. Umm, I'm supposed to also note that Katashi Usagi appologizes for the lack of updates on her fic "MOOSE" (read it, it's ssssssoooooo good!) because con costumes and school work come first. Usual disclaimer: Schwarz belongs to KT and Prj W. Lucky man, ne? O.o I don't believe I wrote this. Please enjoy....please?  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The Next Day: Berlin, Germany  
  
Crawford stared out of his bedroom window into the evening, vodka glass in hand. He hadn't slept the previous night. The memories of that afternoon were still floating around in his head.  
  
It bothered him, but not in a completely bad way. He still felt dirty; his latest partner, if you could call him a partner, being a guy. A guy! But in a way, he wanted Schuldig. What the brat had given him, had done to him was unforgettable. But he shouldn't be thinking like that. God, he was so confused.  
  
Crawford gulped down the last of his vodka. "God, why me?" he said aloud. He walked into his office and pulled the vodka bottle out of the bottom drawer of his desk. He poured himself another glass and set the bottle on the desk.  
  
Something else was bugging him. Schuldig had clearly stated his opinion of Este. Now it was not a secret, not that it ever really was. So now Crawford knew that Schuldig thought the same as him. Both hated this place, both of them hated Este and their ideals, both of them longed for the downfall of these psychos. But Schuldig thought that he was one of them. This whole time, Crawford has been spitting out Este ideals, going along with everything his assignment called for.  
  
Schuldig hated him; Crawford knew Schuldig hated him. But it would be nice to have an ally in this place. Schu could use a friend in here. Hell, Crawford could use a friend in here. This was a lonely place.  
  
Crawford set his glass on the desk and walked out of the room. He trekked down to the lower floors to Schuldig's dorm room. He wanted to set the record straight with Schu. Him knowing Crawford was on his side might make his stay here go a little more smoothly. It might make the remainder of Crawford's stay go more smoothly as well.  
  
He knocked on the door and Schuldig's roommate opened the door.  
  
"Ah, Mister Crawford, what can I do for you?"  
  
Crawford looked at the man. He seemed to be about the same age as himself, and just as tall. "Is Schuldig here?"  
  
"Umm, no. He stepped out for a bit. Can I help you with something?"  
  
"No, just tell him to come by my office as soon as he gets back."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Crawford went back to his own dorm. What was he going to say to Schuldig? How was he going to say it?  
  
Crawford grabbed his glass from the desk and finished it off.  
  
{{Schuldig came toward him.}}  
  
He set the glass on the desk and grabbed the bottle. In the short time he had been in this particular room, he suddenly realized he had never sat on his little couch. So, he took a seat in the dead center of the cushions. It was actually quite comfortable. Crawford raised the bottle to his lips and took a sip.  
  
{{Schuldig leaned in to kiss him.}}  
  
Crawford stopped drinking. He sighed, "Not again."  
  
*********************************  
  
Schuldig walked back to his room. It drove him nuts that he was followed anywhere he went in this place. It was too much work trying to get everybody to go elsewhere. Goodness, his poor little head.  
  
He needed some air. The boredom of the day was starting to get to Schu. There was nothing to do for kicks around this place. Obviously recreation really wasn't something these people believed in.  
  
At least Crawford hadn't bugged him at all today. Hopefully he scared him off. That guy was so annoying. And Schuldig couldn't tell him to go somewhere cause he had no mental influence on the guy.  
  
It really was too bad he was such an asshole. If it wasn't for the fact that he was a part of this cult, Schuldig thought he could definitely have some fun with the man. He was really attractive, a pretty face and a nice ass. Oh, and was he well endowed. Yeah, he could definitely have fun with him.  
  
Schuldig opened the door and walked in, heading straight for his bed.  
  
"Mister Crawford wants to see you in his office A.S.A.P." said his roommate.  
  
Schu sat down. "What did he want?"  
  
His roommate shrugged. "I don't know, but he didn't look too happy."  
  
"He never looks like anything." Schuldig got back up and headed to Crawford's office. "Now what the hell does he want? God, I would know if I could read his fucking mind!"  
  
He got to the door and banged on it. "Come in," came a voice from inside.  
  
Schu walked in to see Crawford sitting in the middle of his couch holding a vodka bottle. "This guy drinks?" he thought to himself. He stepped over in front of Crawford, "What do you want?"  
  
Crawford looked at him. He could feel Schuldig trying to get at his mind. He was trying really hard. "Please stop trying to get at my mind. You aren't going to succeed."  
  
Schuldig stopped.  
  
"I called you here because I have some things that I need to say to you. Obviously, you don't want to be here. Well, let me tell you something, neither do I. I know you think I'm the enemy and I know you hate me. Whatever. I don't care about that. I want you to know that I think all this is bullshit too. You've only had to listen to this shit for a month now? Try having it ground into your head for two years! The only way to survive here is to conform, or at least make them think you've conformed. The only reason I'm grounding this stuff into your head is because that's what they want me to do and if I don't, they will not think twice about killing me. They have you, so they don't need me anymore. You don't give a fuck about your life anymore, fine, but I give a fuck about mine. I'm not dying here! And I don't really think you should want to die here either."  
  
Schuldig stared at him. Damn! He had no idea. This guy was too good an actor, a lying son of a bitch. This whole time he was just acting. This 'Este is everything, our ideals are everything' attitude was just a charade. The whole time.  
  
He said to Crawford, "I had no idea." He depended on his mental senses too much. Schuldig concerned himself so much with getting into his mind that he never even noticed Crawford's exterior.  
  
Crawford leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, vodka bottle still in hand. "Well, I thought you should know. It would be nice to have an ally in here, you know? And it's a good thing I was the one you told, cause anybody else, would have killed you."  
  
Schuldig stood there. He didn't know what to say. But, for once he agreed with Crawford. It would be nice to have a friend in here; someone who agreed with him and he didn't have to be careful with what he said around them.  
  
Both of them were silent, looking at each other. Neither one knew what to say now. Crawford was done saying what he felt he had to and Schu had nothing to say to Crawford anymore. There seemed to be a tension building.  
  
Schuldig decided to break it. He walked toward Crawford and placing a knee to the side of him, crawled up into his lap, startling him. He came to rest on Crawford's thighs. Crawford just looked at him. Schu took a hold of the vodka bottle that Crawford still had in his hand and took a swig of it.  
  
Crawford cocked his head to the side. "Aren't you a little young to drink?"  
  
Schuldig swallowed the liquor, "I'm a little young to do a lot of things." He leaned over and set the bottle on the table to the side of the couch. He then placed a finger on either side of Crawford's glasses and slipped them off, setting them next to the bottle.  
  
He gently grabbed the sides of Crawford's face and leaned in to kiss him; lightly touching him just to the side of his mouth. Crawford closed his eyes. Schuldig moved over across his cheek and then switched to the other side of his face. Crawford was filled with so much pleasure just by feeling the other man's lips on his skin. He took his hands and placed them around Schuldig's waist.  
  
Schu put his hands on Crawford's chest, feeling every curve under his shirt. Why couldn't it have been a button-up? He reached down and pulled Crawford's shirt up, pulling himself away long enough to get the shirt over his head. Schu moved his lips down his neck, inhaling every scent of the older man.  
  
"You're still trying to get into my head. You aren't going to succeed," Crawford said while massaging Schu's lower back.  
  
"It's habit," he said as he sat up to look at Crawford's face. "I always dive into people's heads to see what they want. That's why I'm so good at what I do." He leaned in and kissed Crawford on the lips.  
  
Both of them froze. Something had happened at that moment their lips met. Some emotion ran through the both of them, something indescribable. Crawford had opened his eyes to see Schuldig staring at him. Neither one of them moved. It was as if they were frozen in time.  
  
Schuldig probed at Crawford's mind again. Nothing. What was he feeling? What did he think of this moment?  
  
Crawford opened his mouth slightly and kissed Schuldig back. Both of them now resumed their previous actions, Crawford now moving his lips across and down Schuldig's face.  
  
"You know," Schuldig suddenly said, "I will get into your mind somehow. I've never met a mind I couldn't read."  
  
Crawford pulled himself away momentarily, "Oh? Well, I've never met a person who could read my mind."  
  
"Is that a challenge, Crawford?" Schu ran his fingers through Crawford's hair. "I'm the world's strongest telepath. How do intend on keeping me out of your mind?"  
  
"You do have an ego don't you?" Crawford pushed Schuldig back a bit so he could look at him. "Well, probably just doing what I do anyway. How do you intend on getting into my mind telepath?"  
  
Schuldig smiled at him. "Well, that's easy," he planted a kiss on Crawford's lips. "First, I'll seduce you." Schu got up on his knees, pressing his erection into Crawford's stomach, "Then, I'll fuck you." He then gently kissed him on the forehead, "And last, I'll mind rape you."  
  
Crawford was so aroused now.  
  
Schuldig sat down again. "Well, since I've already seduced you, I mind as well move onto phase two, but in your bed."  
  
Schuldig got up and taking Crawford's hands, guided him into the bedroom. The younger man pushed Crawford down on his back onto the bed and kneeled over him. He unbuttoned his own shirt and threw it somewhere in the room. Schuldig leaned over and, placing his hands to either side of Crawford's shoulders, ferociously kissed his chest.  
  
Crawford grabbed Schu's shoulder with one hand and ran his other through the mass of red hair moving around his chest.  
  
Taking one of Crawford's nipples in his mouth, Schuldig massaged the nub with his tongue. He heard the other man moaning at his touch. He fondled him for a couple of minutes before moving to the other nipple. Crawford's skin tasted so sweet to him. Schuldig continued to move himself down and around his partner, exploring every crease of the other man's abdomen.  
  
Crawford held onto Schuldig's hair, tightening his grip every time he felt a surge of pleasure from the other man. His partner was moving further down. He wriggled a bit because Schu's tongue tickled him. He was enjoying himself very much. Crawford felt his pants being undone. He let go of the mass of hair he was holding onto and lifted his head to see Schuldig smiling at him.  
  
"Lift your ass," Schu said to him.  
  
Crawford did so and he felt his pants and underwear disappear from his body. He felt a pair of hands grip his hips and a pair of lips touch his fully erect penis.  
  
He closed his eyes and cocked his head back. The pleasure and ecstasy he was feeling at that moment was almost too much for him.  
  
Schuldig pecked at Crawford with his lips, carefully searching around the shaft before wrapping his entire mouth around the erection.  
  
Crawford's eyes flew open. He gripped at the blanket on the bed and yelled out in pleasure. The mask that he always wore, no matter what he was feeling, fell off. He didn't care anymore. He wanted Schuldig to see the pleasure on his face; wanted to feel the pleasure the younger man had to give. Crawford looked down and saw the red headed man bobbing up and down. He was going to climax at any moment.  
  
Schuldig moved his mouth faster up and down, tasting any pre-essence coming from his partner. He brought Crawford as far into his mouth as he possibly could, receiving a deep groan in return. Faster and faster, hearing Crawford's breathing matching his own rhythms.  
  
"Ahh.I'm cumming.!" Crawford seemed to yell at him. He arched his back slamming himself further into Schuldig as he emptied his essence into his partner's mouth. Schuldig took a mouth full of it; swallowing.  
  
Crawford collapsed, most of his energy spent. Schuldig pushed himself back up along Crawford; coming to rest at his neck and started to suck at his jugular vein.  
  
Crawford put his arms around Schu. He looked at the ceiling as Schuldig nibbled at his neck. "Umm, Schuldig," he whispered.  
  
"Was?"  
  
"Did you swallow?"  
  
Schuldig looked at him, "Yeah. I could have spit, but you'd be surprised how many guys don't find fountains romantic."  
  
Crawford stared at him; eyes wide.  
  
Schuldig smiled at him. "Well now, it's my turn." He grabbed Crawford's one shoulder and flipped him over on to him stomach. As he ran a hand from Crawford's hip slowly up his side, Schuldig nibbled at shoulder blade.  
  
Crawford suddenly felt Schu get off of the bed. He turned his head and saw him looking around the room as he was taking his pants off.  
  
"Umm," Crawford question, "Is there something wrong?"  
  
Schuldig dropped his drawers. "Hold on a sec." He walked over to Crawford's bathroom and went in.  
  
Crawford turned back and popped his head on his fist. "He has to piss at a time like this?"  
  
After a few seconds, he felt Schuldig get back onto the bed, grab his hips and pulled them toward him. Crawford scotched himself toward Schuldig. "Why'd you go in the bathroom?"  
  
He suddenly felt something cold and slimy touch the opening to his ass. His muscles tensed. "Ah! What the hell is that?!"  
  
Schuldig caressed his ass crack. "Believe me, you'll thank me later." He inserted his forefinger into Crawford, then his middle finger. As he slowly stretched Crawford's opening; the older man wriggling from a combination of pleasure and pain.  
  
"You like that?" Schuldig asked him. Crawford didn't answer him. He really didn't know himself.  
  
Schuldig felt Crawford wasn't going to be as tight as before, so he positioned himself, and placing his hands on Crawford's hips, he slowly inserted himself into Crawford's opening.  
  
Crawford let out a quick breath. "Well, this is different," he thought.  
  
Schuldig was slow at first, easing himself into his partner, but he quickened his pace after not too long.  
  
Crawford was becoming hard again. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that he would be making love to, or being made love to by another man. The feeling of Schuldig in him was driving him wild. He was amazed at the pleasure that was rushing through his every nerve. He wanted more, so much more.  
  
Schuldig wanted more of Crawford. He shoved himself in as far as he could, over and over. He reached in front of Crawford and grabbed him, stroking his erection; his hand movements matching that of his pelvic thrusts.  
  
Oh, yes! That is what Crawford needed, relief from the build-up of pleasure. Again, he could feel himself approaching another orgasm. Oh, he didn't want his younger partner to stop.  
  
Schuldig moaned out load, his breathing becoming faster and faster. He couldn't contain himself any longer. With one last thrust; he came inside of his partner.  
  
Crawford could feel himself being filled with Schuldig's warm essence. The younger man seemed to collapse on him, though still stroking him until he came for a second time.  
  
The both of them lay collapsed on the bed, panting from exhaustion. Neither one of them moved for a couple of minutes.  
  
Suddenly, Crawford felt Schuldig pull out of him, giving him one last bout of pleasure before declaring he was done. He turned over on his side and was asleep within minutes.  
  
*************************  
  
Crawford awoke to the sun shinning through the window. Somehow, during the night, he was able to crawl under his blankets, although he didn't remember waking up and doing so.  
  
The events of last night came back to his mind. He actually smiled a bit at the memory. Crawford turned over to see if his partner had enjoyed last night, but when he did, all he found was an empty bed. He didn't know when Schu left and felt kind of disappointed at finding only himself the morning after.  
  
Crawford turned over on his back and sighed, "God, now I feel like a whore." 


	9. Neun

Sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter. I've been on a costuming binge this week (glomps Tohma and Shuichi). Also, //\\ means mental communication, so even though it says "talked" or "says", it's all in the mind. Disclaimer: Schwarz belongs to KT and PrjW. I also quoted a few lines from a book somewhere in here - "Moon Shot" by A. Shepard & D. Slayton. I needed to quote a book and it was the closest one. Everything else is mine. ************************************************************************ Berlin, Germany: One month later  
  
//.feel the thoughts; make them a physical entity in your head. Get a hold of them; push them away. Take your own conscience; make it a physical entity. Pull it up in the way of the thoughts.\\  
  
Schuldig sat at the table with his eyes closed listening to the other man talk to him. Before he had come here to Rosenkreuz, he had never communicated with another telepath. It was very comfortable, like finding someone who speaks your language in a foreign country.  
  
He had to admit, despite Estes' true intensions, this place had helped him with his mental problems. Before he came here, he had no mental blocks. There was just a constant onslaught of voices; peoples thoughts. Schu was still amazed that he hadn't gone completely insane yet. Part of his curriculum here was controlling the voices, controlling his mind. He was getting better, although he was nowhere near perfect. There were still voices, plenty of them. But they didn't seem to bother him as much anymore. The headaches though.they seemed almost worse.  
  
//Can you feel you're thoughts? Can you feel the voices?\\  
  
Schuldig squinted, //Ja, can we stop for today? I'm getting a headache.\\  
  
The man sitting across the table nodded. "Yeah, why don't we. You've made great progress. I want you to practice still." The man stood up and gathered some folders that were on the table. He looked at Schuldig who was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Have you taken my advice and asked for help from your mentor?"  
  
Schuldig looked at the man, "Crawford? No, I haven't."  
  
"You should. I've never met anyone who can form mental blocks like that. Maybe he could teach you a few things." He left the room.  
  
"As if I don't have a big enough headache," Schuldig said aloud. He really didn't socialize with Crawford. It figures that his only ally in this hellhole and Crawford really didn't want to say anything to him. Well, it was more like avoiding him. In this past month or so, the only time the two of them ever talked was when Crawford had no choice in the matter.  
  
Dealing with him was so hard. The man showed no emotion what so ever, but Schuldig knew he possessed it. He found that out in a most enjoyable way. He would have smiled at the image if it weren't for the throbbing pain whisking the thought away.  
  
He walked to the bathroom for his particular floor. He went in and stood at the sink. Schu turned on the cold water and splashed some on his face. The chill gave him minimal relief. As he rubbed the liquid across his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. Schuldig never realized how green his eyes were. They did stand out, didn't they?  
  
Schuldig brought his hands away from his face and stared at himself. He needed a trim. His hair had gotten rather long. The orangey-red strands draped down and over his shoulders. He had always liked his hair long; he didn't know why. It just seemed to suit him. It made his seem flirtier, which was good in the line of work he was in.was.  
  
His hair, one of the few things he liked about himself and Schuldig really didn't like himself. No, he hated himself. He hated what he was, he hated what he made himself, he hated what he had become. Why, why did he do this to himself? "Okay, you," he said aloud, "You are not going to get depressed right now because you are just going to start crying again and then you'll have a worse headache than you already have."  
  
Schuldig splashed more water on his face and then headed to his room. His head hurt so badly. This was one of the worst he had had in awhile. He walked into his room, his roommate reading some book on his bed. Schu climbed into his own bed and buried his head in his pillow.  
  
//.pure, naked, uninhibited emotion. It gathered substance over the ocean.\\  
  
"What the hell are you reading?" Schuldig said to his roommate.  
  
The man stopped reading and looked over at him, "Umm, a book."  
  
"Can you do it a little quieter please?"  
  
"Umm.okay."  
  
Schuldig closed his eyes and stuffed as much of the pillow in his ears as humanly possible.  
  
//.in the palmetto scrub, from every point.\\//.so where are we going to send him.\\//.Geeze, I have to piss.\\//.Wait a minute.\\//.what do you.\\//.see it.\\//.hell.\\  
  
Schuldig could feel the tears coming to his eyes. He tried to bring up those barriers that he was being taught to create, but it was so hard to concentrate. If everyone would just shut up for two seconds, he might be able to do it, but there were too many voices and they would shut up. Just constant talking, thinking, thinking and talking. Constant, constant, constant. Nobody would shut-up, nobody would whisper at least, they kept screaming, getting louder and louder and louder."  
  
"Shut Up!!!" Schuldig started banging his head into his bed hoping the constant pounding of his physical head would stop the pounding of his mental head. His roommate stared at him.  
  
Schuldig stopped. He got up and walked out of the room, his roommate's eyes following him the whole time. Schu needed to find a quiet place, anyplace, far away from people. But there where people all over, everywhere. A quiet place, a quiet place. Somehow he ended up at Crawford's office.  
  
Did he really want to go in there? He knocked on the door. Schuldig leaned against the doorframe. There was no answer. He opened the door and stepped inside. No one was in there. "Crawford," he called out. No answer. Schu went in and looked around. It was quiet in here, surprisingly quiet.  
  
Schuldig sat on the couch. He brought his legs up and rested his head on his knees. His head still pounded. The voices still wouldn't stop, but there were less. Less was good. He tried to concentrate now, but to no avail. Schu started to cry again. Why wouldn't the voices stop."Please stop, stop, stop."  
  
"What are you doing in here?" came a voice from the doorway.  
  
Schuldig's mind focused on reality a bit. He noticed that he was shaking and rocking back and forth. He looked up just enough to see a Crawford standing in the doorway. "I needed some place quiet to sit."  
  
"So you chose here? Why do you need a quiet place?"  
  
Schuldig raised his head to expose his tear stained face to the older man. If he didn't know better, Schu would have sworn a look or surprise and distress came over Crawford's face. "Because, I have a head ache." 


	10. Zehn

I don't know how I did it, but I was able to dish out 5 pages in my 8-½ hours at work. For me, that's pretty damn good. I just hope it doesn't sound like I wrote while standing in front of a register. But anywho, the usual disclaimers and //\\ means telekinetic communication and shtuff and, well.yeah.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Kopfschmerzen?" Crawford looked at him.  
  
"Ja, a headache." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees. "And I need someplace quiet to be."  
  
Crawford stood there looking at the seemingly vulnerable figure balled up on his couch. Inwardly, he felt sorry for the man. He had begun to look at Schuldig as a strong person; he figured he had to be to do what he did and not feel anything. Crawford sure as hell felt something though he tried his best to hide it.  
  
He sat on the other side of the couch facing Schuldig. "Do you always get these migraines?"  
  
"As long as I can remember," Schu said through his knees. "One of the massive side effects of my mental abilities." He lifted his head and looked at Crawford through red, puffy eyes. "Have you ever had a thousand people scream at you all at once?"  
  
Crawford shook his head.  
  
"That's what it's like for me. I have this annoying ability to hear and pick up people's thoughts whether I want to or not. Normally it's just background noise in my head, but sometimes they start screaming at me. Normally I just don't listen to them, but the louder they are, the harder it is to not listen to them, so I get this massive headache and I've no way to shut them up, and God my head hurts." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees.  
  
"Everybody's thoughts?" Crawford asked him.  
  
"Everybody's. Which is why it's so easy for me to read people's minds. I'm so receptive to everything. Too receptive, if you ask me. Sometimes I can't even distinguish my own thoughts from those of other's. Which is why I also have a habit of talking to myself sometimes. Hearing my own voice helps me collect my own thoughts."  
  
"Aren't you being helped with forming mental barriers by some of the other telepaths in this place?"  
  
Schuldig started to rub his temples. "Ja, but I haven't gotten very far. Granted, before I came here, I had no defense against the thoughts, but I can't seem to totally block them out. And now that I'm using my mind more just for forming these barriers, the headaches seem worse than before."  
  
Crawford stood up and got some Tylenol® from the bathroom. He came back and held his hand out. "Here, I'll get you some water."  
  
Schuldig looked up and accepted the medicine. "I don't know how much this will do."  
  
"Well, maybe it'll help." Crawford got a glass from his desk and went back to the bathroom for some water. When he returned to the office, he saw Schuldig struggling with the cap of the medicine bottle.  
  
He had it in his hands and was trying to twist the cap off. "Come on you stupid piece of mother fucking plastic bottle. Why do they make these things so damned hard to open!?" Schu started hitting the bottle against the couch cushion. "Why won't you open you cock-sucker."  
  
Crawford set the water on the end table and grabbed for Schuldig's swinging arms. "Schuldig, Schuldig.Schuldig!"  
  
Schuldig stopped when Crawford finally grabbed a hold of his wrists. Crawford looked at him as if he were insane. Schu stared back at him, the throbbing becoming more intense. He started to cry again. "Oh, please make it stop."  
  
Crawford took the Tylenol, opened it and gave two pills to Schu. He then reached back and grabbed the glass of water. "Now, try to relax. Your sobbing isn't going to get you anywhere."  
  
Schuldig swallowed the pills and finished off the water. He tried to suck it up, but the more he tried, the harder the tears came. He handed the glass back to Crawford, who took it from a shaking hand, and Schu placed his fingers back onto his temples.  
  
Crawford placed his hands on the other man's shoulders and pulled him toward his chest. He embraced Schu gently, since he was in so much pain already. "Schuldig, focus on my mind."  
  
Between quiet sobs, he said, "You moron, you have no mind as far as I'm concerned."  
  
"Therefore," Crawford whispered, "The absence of my mind might alleviate all the minds if you were to focus on it."  
  
"Crawford, I can not concentrate very well as it is and trying to find your mind in the midst of hundreds of other minds is like trying to find a needle the size of your thumb nail in a haystack the size of Munich. I don't think I am up to the challenge."  
  
Okay, he had a point. If Schuldig were going to concentrate on his mind, he would have to find it in the vast sea of other thoughts swimming around his head. Crawford let down one of his outer most barriers; an act he hadn't done in goodness knows how long. He called out to the other man he was holding.  
  
//Schuldig.\\ he whispered to him, //Can you hear me?\\  
  
Schuldig sat up and looked at the man with surprise. "You do have a mind after all."  
  
//Now try focusing.\\  
  
Schuldig followed Crawford's 'voice', as difficult and painful as it was. He finally found the void in between all of the voices and the thoughts. He relaxed. "Oh God," Schu whispered, "You are so quiet." He nuzzled himself into Crawford's chest.  
  
"How is your head now?"  
  
"I still have a head ache, but I feel better." Actually, now he felt really tired. Crying takes a lot out of a person. Schuldig started to fall asleep, but then he felt Crawford move and then himself being lifted up in the air.  
  
Crawford had figured, if he was going to fall asleep, it mind as well be somewhere more comfortable than the couch. So, he decided to carry the German man off to his own bed. Surprisingly, Schu was quite light.  
  
Being this close to Crawford was actually really comfortable, so inviting. Under normal circumstances, Schu would have jumped at a chance like this, but right now, he was not in the mood.  
  
He was carried into a fairly dark room; some light coming in from behind the drapes. Crawford set him on the bed. He took Schu's shoes off and pulled the blankets up over him. "Rest."  
  
Schuldig watched as Crawford went over to the dresser and removed his tie and dress shirt; neatly folding them and setting them on the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. He smiled at Crawford's form underneath the new shirt. His usual business-like attire hardly did him justice. Schu's headache was subsiding enough that he could enjoy the view.  
  
Crawford walked over to the other side of the bed and got in. He inched himself closer to Schuldig until they were touching. Wrapping his arms around Schu, Crawford started to gently kiss his temples.  
  
Oh, why now? Of all the times to want to make out, he had to pick now. God, Crawford was inconsiderate. Did he already forget the display Schuldig put on not ten minutes ago?  
  
"Crawford? Please, not now. I really don't think I would be as enjoyable in my current state."  
  
"Ssshhhhh.you just rest," Crawford whispered. "I just want to kiss you, is that okay?"  
  
That's it? He just wanted to kiss him. Nobody wanted to just kiss him. Was that possible?  
  
Schuldig nodded. He felt Crawford's lips lightly touch his cheek, then his temple, then his cheek again, then his chin. Then, he stopped. Schuldig suddenly felt his scalp being massaged by Crawford's hand. That's it. That's all he wanted.  
  
Schuldig felt kind of odd. He had never met a partner who respected what he wanted. He always did whatever they wanted and they never asked if they could do anything. It was one of the many things that made him feel like scum. But Schu came to expect it.  
  
But here, just now, Crawford gave him something he'd never received before: consideration. For once in his life, Schuldig actually felt good about himself. He rolled onto his side so he was facing the now sleeping Crawford. Schu rested his head against his chest and fell asleep.  
  
**********************  
  
Crawford slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He turned his head and focused on the clock: 5:37 a.m. He then turned back and focused on the mass of orange hair sticking out from underneath his covers. Crawford smiled. The guy wasn't so bad, he guessed. He doesn't snore, so that's a good thing. He ran his fingers through Schuldig's hair. What did he see in him? What was so attractive about him? He really didn't know. After a while, Crawford fell back asleep.  
  
Schuldig came out of his unconscious slumber; greeted by the usual onslaught of thoughts. He thought for a moment, then remembering that he had slept in Crawford's bed. He slept with someone. Schu had never literally slept with anyone. He usually was the first to leave. Sleeping together was not part of his former job description.  
  
He felt Crawford next to him who was still asleep. It was comforting. He wasn't here because he was being paid to be, or because he got drunk last night; he was there because the man there with him wanted to sleep with him. It was a new feeling. He couldn't describe it.  
  
Schuldig turned and looked at Crawford's face. Expressionless as ever. He ran his fore finger across Crawford's lips. He was so different; like none other. Schu rested his head on Crawford's shoulder. "Crawford," he said aloud to himself, "I think I'm in love with you." He closed his eyes and let sleep take over again. 


	11. Elf

Oh my gawd! When I started writing this fic, I never thought that it would be this well liked. A massive Domo Arigatou to everybody who has left a review. Don't worry, there is plenty more to come. I also want to say hi to Yohji & Margaret, I had sssoooooooo much fun this weekend. Can't wait for graduation! I also want to say Guten Tag to Ryuichi and her friend person-with-random-Irish-accent (gomen nasai, I don't remember your names *sweatdrop*) from the AP store in Fairfax. And Katashi..well...I see you every day.so...yeah. Anywho, this stuff belongs to KT and PrjW, all other stuff is mine, that's about it, on with the story...  
  
************************************************************************  
  
A couple of weeks later: Berlin, Germany  
  
A cool breeze blew through the open windows rustling the drapes of Crawford's bedroom around. He was sitting up against the headboard with a book in his hand. There were folders and papers spewed out to the side of him. Resting, with his head on Crawford's thighs, was a Schuldig.  
  
Crawford had some work to do and Schuldig had nothing in particular he had to do. So he decided that bugging Crawford seemed like fun. Normally, students at Rosenkreuz weren't really allowed to just do nothing, especially in the middle of a day. But, since Schuldig was with his 'mentor', he technically was doing something, therefore could do nothing. He found it all very convenient.  
  
"Crawford?'  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What are you reading?"  
  
Crawford turned a page. "A book."  
  
Schu rolled his eyes. "That's very perceptive of you. What kind of book?"  
  
"A Japanese book."  
  
Schuldig turned his head to look at him. "You speak Japanese?"  
  
"No, it's a learn-to-speak-Japanese-book."  
  
"Why would you want to learn Japanese?"  
  
"I've no choice in the matter."  
  
"No choice?"  
  
Crawford turned another page. "Fräulein Menschenfeind handed it to me and told me to learn it."  
  
Schuldig turned back to look at the ceiling. "Why do you think she did that?"  
  
Crawford sighed. "Well, the last time I had to learn a language, I was shipped off to this place. So, I figure I'm going to Japan once I get out of here."  
  
Now Schuldig sighed. "Do you know when you're going to be done here?"  
  
"I've no idea."  
  
"Nein?"  
  
"Nein. Soon I would think thought."  
  
Schuldig stretched his legs out. "You know I've never really cared for Menschenfeind. She thinks too much. Isn't she a precog like you?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm."  
  
"You know, she's a real stiff-ass. I think she has a bigger stick up her ass than you do. Is that a precog trait?"  
  
Crawford looked up from his book and stared at Schuldig. Schu grinned at him. "Don't you have anything better to do?" Crawford said to him.  
  
"Umm, nope."  
  
Crawford went back to reading his book. The two men were silent for a little while.  
  
"You know, I've seen that before; someone with a stick up their ass, I mean."  
  
Crawford looked at him again, "What!?"  
  
"Some guy I knew had some book with pictures of accidents or something and some guy fell on a stick and it went up his ass. It looked very painful."  
  
"Right."  
  
"It's not the strangest thing I ever saw, though. I think the strangest thing probably would be this one guy that used to come into the bar, that bar you found me at, he had some facial deformity and his eyes were spread really far apart. He kind of reminded us of a fish. So we simply called him Herr Fischmann. He didn't seem to mind."  
  
"You know, you talk a lot." Crawford turned a page.  
  
"Ja, I know. Have you ever seen anything weird like that?"  
  
"Nein."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really." Again silence. Then Crawford dropped his book to his lap, just to the side of Schuldig's head and with a completely straight face remarked, "Well, no. My brother once stuck a spiced apple ring up his nose and got it stuck. That was pretty weird looking."  
  
Schuldig's eyes widened and he started to howl with laughter. Even Crawford himself started to smile at it. "Yeah, it was pretty funny."  
  
"Ha! Funny? That is fricken hilarious!"  
  
The two of them sat and laid on the bed laughing about Crawford's remark for a minute or two.  
  
"I didn't know you had a brother," Schuldig finally said after he calmed down a bit.  
  
"That would be because I never told anyone."  
  
"Okay, well, yeah. Just a brother?"  
  
"Ja."  
  
"Younger or older?"  
  
"Younger."  
  
Schuldig flipped over to his stomach and looked at Crawford. "When was the last time you saw him?"  
  
Crawford thought for a moment. "Not since I left home when I was 17."  
  
"And you're how old now.?"  
  
"20."  
  
Schuldig thought for a moment. So you've been here for three years, but you're a 4th year student." Schu looked very confused.  
  
"Actually, I've technically only been here for 2 years."  
  
"Okay.how?"  
  
Crawford paused for a moment, "Let's just say that I was able to throw my weight around enough to achieve a higher status faster."  
  
"Uh-huh. Right." He seemed content with that answer. Schuldig stared out the window and had started to play with his hair.  
  
"So what about you?" Crawford asked after going back to his book. "Do you have any siblings?"  
  
Schu sighed. "I don't know. I don't remember anything from before I was, like, 9. Hell, I can't even remember my birth name."  
  
"You can't remember anything?"  
  
"Most of my memories have gotten lost in the thoughts going through my head. Some of them, I'm not sure if they are even mine."  
  
Crawford closed his book, keeping his finger in his spot. So how'd you end up with a name like 'guilty'?"  
  
"It's the only thing I can remember anyone calling me, I think." Schuldig paused. "Well, what about you? What's your last name?"  
  
Crawford raised his right eyebrow as he opened up his book again. "Crawford is my last name."  
  
"Oh.okay, well what's your first name?"  
  
Crawford didn't answer. He kept on reading his book.  
  
Schuldig glanced over at Crawford not paying attention to him. He rolled back over and stared at the ceiling again, figuring Crawford wasn't going to answer him.  
  
"Bradley."  
  
"Was?" Schu said glancing back up to him.  
  
"My first name is Bradley."  
  
"Hmm.Bradley Crawford." Schuldig smiled. "I like it. It kind of has a ring to it. It suits you."  
  
Crawford looked at him. "That doesn't mean you go using it."  
  
"Sure, whatever you say Bradley." Schu grinned at him.  
  
Crawford thought to himself, "What have I done?"  
  
*********************  
  
Brad walked down the hall toward the Doktor's office; books and folders in hand. The afternoon had progressed rather slowly. He attempted to study that one book all afternoon, but to really no avail. He did enjoy Schuldig's company, but there were times that the man was so annoying.like when he was trying to do work.  
  
What did he see in him again?  
  
Bradley inwardly smiled at the thought of Schuldig. He was awfully cute.wait, did he just think cute? He surprised himself. Thank goodness no one could read his mind.  
  
Maybe it was his innocence. He did have it in him, despite his outward appearance. It was in his eyes; this little glimmer of innocence that flashed every now and then. Brad was definitely attracted to that.  
  
He knocked on the Doktor's door, and as soon as he heard an 'OK' from the room within, he entered. The Doktor was sitting at his desk rustling through papers of sorts.  
  
"Ah, Crawford, come in, have a seat, would you like something to drink?"  
  
"Ah, nein.danke." Bradley sat down and set the books and such on the coffee table in front of him.  
  
The Doktor came over and sat on a chair opposite him with a drink of sorts in his hand. "How are your studies coming along?"  
  
"They are coming fine. I am somewhere in the 5th chapter of the grammar book now."  
  
"Oh, well good. Menschenfeind arranged for you to be taught by one of the other instructors here. Umm, his office is room 356.Herr Aoiyama. He will instructing you for the next two months."  
  
Crawford questioned, "And what happens after two months?"  
  
The Doktor took a sip of his drink, "Well, I'm not supposed to tell you, it should be Fräulein Menschenfeind telling you this, but rumor has it that Este has chosen you from this school and that your first assignment has already been picked out."  
  
"So, in two months, I leave?"  
  
"Ja."  
  
Crawford was overcome with joy, but did not let it show upon his face.  
  
{{Schuldig looked at him with sadness.}}  
  
What was that? It suddenly started to worry him.  
  
"Well," the Doktor then said, "May I ask how Schuldig has been adjusting over this past year?"  
  
Crawford focused on him, "Umm, he's been doing fine."  
  
"Oh, well that's good. We were so afraid that he would give us immense trouble."  
  
"Yes, well, he hasn't been that much trouble at all. Well, if that is all, I still have some work to do." Crawford stood up, gathered his books and such and headed for the door.  
  
As he grabbed for the handle, the Doktor said after him, "If you don't mind my bringing it up, Crawford, but I never realized you liked them so young  
  
Crawford stopped and looked back into the room at the Doktor. "Excuse me?" he said.  
  
"About Schuldig.I never realized you also liked them so young."  
  
Crawford thought for a moment. What was he talki..oh. A slight flash of embarrassment swept over Crawford momentarily when he realized what the Doktor was talking about. Okay, so the Doktor knew he has slept with Schuldig. But how many other people knew? There was no use in denying it now. But what did he mean by 'so young'?  
  
"Umm, well.you know." Crawford shifted his stance.  
  
The Doktor walked to his desk still talking, "I'll admit, I like them rather young too. I guess you agree that fifteen is a good age."  
  
"Umm, yeah, I guess." Okay, that was just something that he did not need to know the man in the office. Whatever his fetishes were, he did care, he did not nee..whoa! Crawford suddenly made a connection in his head. They were talking about Schuldig, the Doktor said something about 15 being a good age, and this related to Schuldig.  
  
"Well, anyway, Gute Nacht, Herr Doktor." Crawford walked out the door. Shit! Schuldig is only 15!? He can't be. He looks older than 15. But then he never did ask him how old he was. He could be 15. Ahh! He slept with a 15 year old!  
  
Oh, Crawford was so mad now. He stormed to Schuldig dorm room. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he had to say something, like why the 'boy' didn't say anything.  
  
He felt so dirty right now. He wanted to take a shower forever. A child! A god damned fucking kid gave him something he thought he could never have.  
  
Crawford banged on the door of Schuldig's room. His roommate opened the door.  
  
"Where's Schuldig?!"  
  
"Umm.umm.umm.he's in here, Sir."  
  
Crawford stormed in and stopped when he saw Schuldig sitting on his bed. He turned toward the roommate. "You, go find someplace else to be."  
  
"Umm, Sir, where?"  
  
"Anywhere! Just get out."  
  
The other man left. Schuldig had smiled when he saw Crawford enter, but was now alarmed at the presence of the older man. "Crawford, what's up?"  
  
Crawford walked over and stood at the foot of Schuldig's bed. "You and I have to talk." 


	12. Zwolf

Phew.. -.-* This one's long. This one is like two chapters in one, so please enjoy! Usual disclaimers: This shtuff belongs to The Walking Green M&M himself and Prj Weiß. Oh yeah, one more thing, again in the title.supposed to be umlauts. Thing won't let me spell. Not my fault. Okay.have fun.  
  
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Schuldig stared at Crawford. He didn't look angry, but he could feel it; pure anger emanating from the older man. Schu was trying to think of something he had done. Crawford was obviously mad at him, but what did he do? He couldn't think of anything.  
  
"So, what is it Crawford?" Schuldig said in a quiet voice.  
  
Crawford stared back at him. He was so angry with Schuldig. If he had known he was so young, he never would have touched him. But he did, and now he felt like he was one of those child molesters you here about on the news. It wasn't an image he was enjoying.  
  
He calmly said to him, "Just tell me how old you are."  
  
His age? "I'm 15."  
  
"Aahhhh!" Why, why, why. Crawford brought his hands up and buried his face in them. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Schuldig stood up. "I didn't think would be an issue."  
  
Crawford snapped his head up and stared at him. "Not an issue? You are a child, you are under age, you are younger than my brother for God sakes! It's just wrong."  
  
Schuldig folded his hands in front of him. "Well, it didn't seem wrong that time."  
  
Schu looked at Crawford very solemnly. He really didn't think it was an issue. He was so used to people liking his age. The younger, the better seemed to be a motto among his fellow associates. It was just habit to assume that Crawford would be the same. He knew that Crawford was nothing like everybody else, so why did he assume that this one detail would be different? He didn't know. He didn't think, again. Schu kicked himself inwardly for not bring it up earlier.  
  
So he stood there, bearing the sting of Crawford's anger.  
  
"Well, it didn't seem wrong because I didn't know that you were only a child!" Crawford snapped at him. "How the hell do you do the things you do at your age? How did you get into that bar and drink with those guys?"  
  
Schuldig answered, "I know the owner and he knows me and the guys all buy me drinks."  
  
"And the smoking?"  
  
"It's not that hard to find some guy that'll sell you some cigarettes."  
  
"And I'll bet you've gotten drunk off your ass too."  
  
Schu was trying his best to not sound completely upset. "I probably have the worst liver a 15 year old has ever had, but then, what the hell do I have to live for."  
  
Crawford was so frustrated right now. Schu didn't seem to see all this in his perspective. "Don't you see what is wrong here.doesn't any of this bother you?"  
  
Schuldig stepped toward him, "Well, sure I see what's wrong here, but this has been my entire life, so I've learned to not see the wrong and just go with the entire situation."  
  
Crawford could see that there was sorrow in Schuldig's face. Now he could see his years, or lack there of. He knew now why he looked so innocent, because he still was. But this didn't excuse the fact of the matter. "You do realize I have just committed statutory rape?"  
  
"You can't rape the willing."  
  
"That's not the point!" Crawford said rather loudly. " I can get in trouble for this."  
  
Schuldig took another step forward. "Eins: Who the hell here would say anything anyway, und Zwei: If I remember correctly, I did all the work, so technically, you did nothing to me."  
  
The two of them stared at each other.  
  
"I really wish you wouldn't overreact about this whole thing," Schuldig said wanting to break the silence. He took another step toward Crawford. Crawford took a small step back.  
  
Why is it such a big deal to him? This guy is the only guy Schuldig ever met that that a problem with his age. Okay, granted he didn't associate with too many other men.but still. This hurt, this hurt really bad. Schu wanted so badly to run over and wrap his arms around Crawford, but he knew the older man wouldn't let him. The one person he felt so strongly about hated him so much now. It figures.it fucking figures.  
  
"I am not overreacting," Crawford said calmly. But how could he not overreact? His feelings about the whole thing were just overwhelming. They were all jumbled together; he didn't know what he was feeling.anger, frustration, disappointment, yet somewhere in there, he still felt.something.toward him.  
  
Schuldig didn't know what to say, and now Crawford was out of things to say. Then, suddenly, Crawford turned and started to walk out of the room.  
  
Schu panicked. No, please don't leave.come back. "Bradley, stop!"  
  
Crawford stopped, turned, and looked at him. He waited for Schuldig to say something.  
  
Schuldig wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Say something you, you moron. He opened his mouth but no words escaped.  
  
Tell him how you feel, tell him that age doesn't matter to you. //Brad, Ich liebe dich!\\  
  
The thought never reached Crawford's mind. He never heard him. The older man turned and continued out the door toward his own dorm room.  
  
//Schuldig!\\ he screamed at himself, //Get out there and get him! You are going to lose him forever.\\ Schuldig walked to the door and stuck his head out to see Crawford's back quickly walking away.  
  
"Bitte Crawford," he yelled down the hall. "Ich liebe dich!"  
  
Crawford was just about to turn a corner and he stopped and looked back at Schuldig leaning against the doorframe. What did he just say? No, he just did not. Why did he say that? He couldn't, the boy can't feel that way toward him.  
  
Crawford stared at Schu. He should say something, but he didn't know what. Crawford just shook his head and continued to his room.  
  
He lost him. Schu stood there in shock. What was he going to do? Crawford was the only thing he gave a damn about right now and he was gone. Oh God, he messed up. He needed some air and a cigarette.  
  
Schu stepped outside and stood by one of the entrances to the building. The nicotine helped calm his tears. He slumped down and buried his head in his lap, the cigarette slowly burning itself out.  
  
Then Schu heard footsteps approaching. He didn't care. Let him get in trouble.  
  
"Why Schuldig, what are you doing out here at this late hour?"  
  
Schu looked up to see a familiar face approaching his position. "Ah, Herr Doktor. Good evening."  
  
"Please Schuldig, I've told you to call me Klaus. You look upset. Is there anything I can do to help?" The Doktor smiled at him.  
  
Schuldig took a drag of his cigarette and looked out to the courtyard in front of him. "Nein."  
  
The Doktor moved closer. "You know, you look like you are in a state that you shouldn't be alone. Perhaps you would like to come to my office and we could, ummm.talk."  
  
Schuldig looked at him. Mixed memories flooded into his mind. "Ja, I would like that."  
  
The Doktor helped Schuldig off of the ground. Schu inhaled one last breath of the cigarette and threw it to the ground. The two men walked off to the Doktor's office.  
  
**********************  
  
Crawford sat at his desk and stared at the door. He was expecting Schuldig to walk in at any moment. He didn't 'see' Schu walking in and of course, he never did. He wished he would, though.  
  
Crawford wanted to..apologize? Not necessarily say he was sorry, but to say that he overreacted.yes he did overreact. The man had some time to think about it... everything.  
  
Okay, so he acted hastily. He was pissed as hell; who wouldn't? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his age didn't bother him immensely. When he's, like, 27, Schuldig will be.ummm.22. Okay, that's not that bad; five years, but still. It made him shiver.yes, shiver.a little.  
  
He also thought about what Schuldig yelled at him through the hall. He hoped no one heard that. But, did he mean it? Did the other man really feel that strongly about him? It made him think about his own feelings for Schu. Was it love? No, it couldn't be.could it? It was all very confusing.  
  
{{Schuldig was standing behind a screaming man, his hand on the man's mouth. Blood coming from his ears.}}  
  
Crawford blinked. That man.that was the Doktor! What the hell was Schuldig doing?  
  
Crawford got up and walked out the door. He dug into his mind for another precognition. What was going on?  
  
{{The Doktor was leaning over Schuldig on the couch, kissing him. Schuldig was crying.}}  
  
Crawford ran to the office. Oh no! That old fart was not going to touch his Schuldig.  
  
******************  
  
The Doktor touched his face. "You know, Schuldig, it has been awhile since I have visited you. Getting into the city has been very hard this past year. I'm rather pleased we were able to get a hold of you. Aren't you?"  
  
Schuldig forced a smile. "Thrilled."  
  
He knew what was coming. This wouldn't be the first time the Doktor had come to him. Schu could read everything he was planning in his mind. He didn't care right now. He figured it might be a good way to forget about these evening's events.  
  
The Doktor placed his lips on Schuldig's neck and gently began to suck at it. Schuldig did nothing. He just stood there.  
  
The Doktor stopped. "Hmm.you're not responding? Oh, I know why." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He threw them on the coffee table. "There you are, 700 marks." He kissed him again.  
  
Schuldig stared at the money. He felt the Doktor push him onto the couch and climb on top of him. Schu just stared at the money.  
  
That is what drove him, pieces of paper. That is why he did this in the first place; so he could eat, so he could buy clothes, so he could earn his little hole-in-the-wall that he lived in. He started to cry.  
  
The Doktor had Schu's shirt off and was starting to take off his own.  
  
Schuldig thought back to the past four months he'd been there, how far he had come. He actually started to feel something and everything suddenly wasn't about sex. He came out of the shell he had put himself into. But going back into it was hard. He thought he could do it and just enjoy the sex, but he couldn't. Suddenly, this partner wasn't the income he had always seen him as, he was a really old man who can't get laid any other way with his lips all over Schu.  
  
He hated this. He wanted out now. Schu didn't want to do this anymore. "Stop!"  
  
The Doktor stopped and looked at him. "Was?"  
  
"I said stop. I don't want to do this!"  
  
The Doktor clenched his shoulders "Well, you don't have much of a choice, young one." He planted his lips on Schu's. Schuldig bit him.  
  
He felt something hard hit his face. His vision turned white, then black, then back to normal. "What do you think I am paying you for, boy?" he heard.  
  
I'm not like that anymore. I don't have to be like that anymore. I'm not the whore that you know.  
  
He reached out and grabbed the Doktor's thoughts.  
  
"I am not going to be your backdoor whore."  
  
Schu pulled every thought he could.  
  
The Doktor stopped and grabbed his head, pulling at his hair. He backed off of Schuldig.  
  
"I am not your plaything, nor anybody else's."  
  
The Doktor turned around and started to scream. Schuldig grabbed his head and put his hand over the Doktor's mouth to try and silence him. The Doktor struggled.  
  
Schuldig pulled at his thoughts, twisting and manipulating them. He pulled them out of the man's mind and into his own. Some he let slip elsewhere. He pulled the man's mind inside out.  
  
"I have had enough of you," he said sadistically. He threw his own mind into the Doktor's and ripped it through anything he had left in there. Blood began to drip from his ears.  
  
Suddenly the door busted open and Crawford ran in and stopped. Schuldig didn't look at him. He just let the last of the Doktor's mind slip into oblivion until he felt nothing left. Schu let go of the man and let him drop to the floor.  
  
Schuldig?" Crawford quietly said to him.  
  
Schu stared at off at nothing. "You know," he finally said, "That felt really good."  
  
Crawford came over, leaned down and felt the Doktor's neck. No pulse. "Do you realize what you've done?"  
  
"Perfectly. And I think I could do it again."  
  
Crawford stood up and looked into Schuldig's eyes. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.  
  
"Come on. Let's get out of here before someone finds us."  
  
Crawford walked Schuldig back to his own room. "Crawford?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Have you ever killed anyone before?"  
  
"Yes I have."  
  
"Did you get a rush from it?"  
  
Crawford thought about it. "No, I feel nothing."  
  
Schuldig wrapped his arms around Crawford's one arm. Crawford didn't do anything. "Does that make me a bad person because I enjoyed it?"  
  
They stopped in front of Schuldig's room. "No, I think it just makes you a product of this place. Get some sleep." He walked away.  
  
"I'm sorry," Schu said after him.  
  
Crawford turned as he kept walking. He just looked at the younger man. "Gute Nacht, Schuldig." 


	13. Dreizehn

May I say that this was probably the hardest thing I've ever written. Writer's block is a bitch. I also sat down and did some research for this chapter and it turned into research for, like, the rest of the fic and it kind of got out of hand and before I relized it, 2 weeks slipped by, and now I'm babbling, so I'll shut-up. But, in the end, I believe it turned out well.at least I hope -.-* I want to thank Katashi Usagi for helping me immensely on this chapter. The usual disclaimers and shtuffage, so without further delay.....  
  
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Fräulein Menschenfeind hurried to her office. She had just had a precognition of Estes' leaders paying a visit to there school. They, of course, would come to her first. She hurried through the hallways toward the other end of the school.  
  
Menschenfeind swung the door to her office open and was greeted by the images of three very old figures sitting on the chairs that her office provided. They didn't acknowledge her as she walked in.  
  
She closed the door and approached them. "Leaders," she said as she bowed. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"  
  
The old woman spoke first. "We have come to observe a few of the students that are attending this facility."  
  
"This is highly irregular, but, as always, this school is your school. Would you like me to gather the students that you have in mind?"  
  
"No," the one balding old man said. "We would like to observe them as they go about their daily routines. Eventually we will observe them individually and test their abilities."  
  
The three of them smiled. "There is, though," the other man spoke up, "One specific student we have in mind; the one telepath that you've been trying to obtain for some time now. I believe his name is now Schuldig. Is that correct?"  
  
Fräulein Menschenfeind spoke up, "Yes, we have obtained him this year."  
  
The old woman spoke, "It is our understanding that he was difficult to get a hold of. How were you able to tame him?"  
  
"One of our other students, a precog like myself, was able to.tame.him."  
  
Simultaneously, the three old leaders raised an eyebrow. "A precog?" the balding man said. "We will observe him too. What is his name?"  
  
"He is called Crawford."  
  
*************************  
  
Crawford and Schuldig sat opposite each other in the mess hall. Both of them were forcing down what was being served that day. They sat in the back corner of the room as far away from everybody as possible. Luckily, this day, there were very few people eating at this time.  
  
"I think it moved."  
  
Crawford looked up at his companion. "I've been eating here for two years and it has always moved."  
  
Schuldig held up a forkful of the substance level with his face and stared at it. "You know, if these people are smart enough and devious enough to bring back some extinct existence or whatever they want to do, you'd think they would have thought of knocking off a couple of millionaires, take their money and get us, their followers, some decent food. Ah hell, some decent food service. You know, that one cook is a real bitch."  
  
Crawford slightly chuckled at Schu's comment.  
  
As Crawford was amusing Schuldig at the small display of emotion, he noticed three really old figures walk into the mess hall. They seemed to be observing everyone; looking around as if trying to find some one. "Who are those three? I've never seen them before."  
  
Crawford turned around to see whom Schu was asking about. "Oh, those three? They are the elitists of Este. As far as I can tell," he pointed his finger to the ceiling and twirled it around, "This is all there doing."  
  
Schu's eyebrows perked up. "Those are the three?! They started this whole thing?"  
  
"That's what I have gathered. I could be wrong. But, they are the leaders of the entire organization."  
  
"Oh okay, so it's actually three really old farts who want to take over the world. Mmm-hmm, right."  
  
"I think they too have very powerful mental abilities."  
  
Schuldig followed them with his eyes. "So those are the three? You know, I've heard some of the higher-ups think that we, as in you and I, are almost to, if not on, the same level as them."  
  
Brad perked an eyebrow.  
  
"Which means," Schuldig continued, "That we are more fit to rule the world than they are, cause we'll live to see it."  
  
Brad cut in, "Actually, they aren't going to rule. They're waiting for some leader to do it for them."  
  
Schu's mouth dropped. "Well, that's dumb! They should just do it themselves. Why wait for someone that may not even be a good leader in the first place? If they were as smart and as powerful as they're supposed to be, then they would have already killed everyone below them and taken over. That's what I would do. Everybody who never paid me any mind would be dead and all of us mental people would be in control."  
  
Brad stared at him.  
  
Schu lifted his glass into the air. "In the end, the freaks shall inherit the Earth."  
  
"You know, sometimes I think you are the Devil himself."  
  
"Danke. To chaos and us ruling the world," he said with his glass still in the air.  
  
Crawford raised his own glass, "Ja, to ruling the world." Crawford took a sip of the liquid. "And now, my German friend," he said as he set his glass down, "Clear your mind cause they are coming over this way."  
  
"Huh?" Schuldig looked over to where they were standing. "No, they aren." The three of them seemed to notice their presence at the same time and started to walk over toward him and Crawford. "Okay, so they are coming this way."  
  
"Told you. Who can see the future here? You just sit in your little dark cloud of the present and let me tell you what's going to happen."  
  
Schuldig stuck his tongue out at Crawford.  
  
The three Este elites stopped to the side of the table. Crawford and Schuldig looked over at the three of them. Nobody said anything, all of them looking at each other, but mostly at Schu.  
  
The old woman stared at Schuldig. //You do seem to be a strong telepath, don't you?\\  
  
Schuldig could feel her age and her power in her thoughts. It was almost.humbling. But the more he felt her, the more she seemed like himself. Hmm.interesting. //I have been told so,\\ he said back to her.  
  
//I can tell already that you will be of great help to us.\\ She smiled at him.  
  
Schuldig attempted to smile back.  
  
Crawford, of course, didn't hear any of the conversation between the old woman and Schu. To him, it just looked like three of them standing there watching Schuldig. Then, all three of them turned their heads and looked at Crawford.  
  
The balding man spoke to him. "You have quite some impressive abilities young man, especially for one who is supposed to only have the powers of perception."  
  
"Yes Sir, I suppose." Wait, what was this? It felt as if his mind was being clawed at. He recognized the feeling from the few times Schuldig had tried to get at his core. But this was slightly different. There was more power behind the assault. It definitely wasn't Schuldig.  
  
Crawford strengthened his mental blocks as much as he could while trying to look like he wasn't straining himself. The old woman was staring intensely at him. It was her, wasn't it? Yes, it was her. He stared back at her, almost daring her with his eyes to break into his mind. She stopped after deciding that she wasn't going to get far.  
  
The balding man continued on. "You have made quite a name for yourself, Crawford, was it?"  
  
Crawford nodded.  
  
They then turned back to Schuldig. The third man spoke. "We would like to test your abilities."  
  
Schu blinked. You want to do what?  
  
"We want to know the extent of your capabilities."  
  
"We want to see what you can do," the old woman broke in.  
  
"We want to feel your desire to serve Este." The bald man interrupted. "We know about your life and know that you would love to see a reformed world. We want to know how bad you want it."  
  
Schuldig was silent. Crawford spoke up, "How do you intend to test him?"  
  
The three of them looked at him. "All in good time young man," the third man said to him and then back to Schu. "We will be calling upon you in the near future. Prepare yourself."  
  
And with that, the three of them turned and walked away. Schuldig followed them with his eyes until they exited the mess hall. He looked back to Crawford who was finishing his food.  
  
"I don't know about you, but they give me the creeps. How can you be so calm? Now they have their eyes on both of us and that old lady has got some mental powers in her."  
  
Crawford swallowed. "I can be so calm because I've no reason to panic. And I know she has telepathic powers, but I am able to resist her, so you needn't worry about me, not that you do in the first place. Besides, it's you they want to dissect, not me. Most people are interested in the lion, not the lion tamer."  
  
Schuldig set his arms upright on the table, folding his hands and leaned his chin on his fingers. He flashed his most flirting smile at Crawford. "Who ever said you tamed me Bradley?"  
  
Crawford finished the last forkful of food. "I have work to do. You can go find something to amuse yourself before this evening."  
  
Schuldig was still smiling at him.  
  
"By yourself, I mean." He rose up and walked away.  
  
Schu watched him. "I do hope he's there whenever they decide to do this. I don't want to be with those three by myself." He shivered. Creepy, creepy, creepy.  
  
****************  
  
Schu laid on his bad staring at the ceiling. He was listening to the conversations running around his head. Anything to keep him occupied. Nothing too interesting was happening now: A couple of people working on paperwork, someone reading a book, two of the instructors talking about certain things he probably shouldn't be knowing about, and a plethora of just other conversations in general.  
  
Boring. Schuldig let out a sigh. He really needed something to do right now. Listening to the thoughts in his head kept him occupied, especially if their was something interesting going on, but they kept his interest for only so long. And besides, sometimes if he listened to everyone too intensely, he ended up with a headache. And he most definitely didn't feel like one right now.not that he ever did.  
  
"Okay, I need something to do," he said aloud to no one. "Something to do, something to do, something to do." Then a sly smile came to his face. "I wonder what Bradley is doing right now?"  
  
He sat up and swung his legs to the floor. As he was putting his shoes on, someone started to knock at the door.  
  
Schuldig looked up at the door and dug for the minds of his visitors. He frowned. After Schu finished putting his shoes on, he went to the door and opened it.  
  
He was greeted by two figures, both in dark colored suits, standing stalk still outside the room. Schuldig recognized the two men immediately. They were two of the guards that seemed to be everywhere at the same time. The two of them also seemed to like to follow Schuldig, constantly watching him if he stepped out for a smoke or a walk. They were quite the nuisances.  
  
Schu leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. //So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?\\ he questioned the two men.  
  
The one tilted his head slightly at the sudden voice coming from a mouth that didn't move. They both then turned and looked at each other.  
  
Schuldig looked at them with amusement written all over his face. He wondered if he should play with their minds like he always did since he was looking for something to do. But he decided to see why they were paying him a personal visit this time.  
  
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He still leaned comfortably in the doorway as he waited for a response.  
  
The man to left spoke, "We are here, Herr Schuldig, to escort you down to one of the meeting rooms. If you will please come with us."  
  
Schu shifted his weight slightly. "First off, please don't call me 'Herr'. Schuldig will do fine. Second, is this about those Este people testing me?"  
  
The two of them stared at him. Then the other one spoke up. "Her.err.Schuldig, then.if you will please come with us."  
  
"Jeez, even an 'I don't know' would suffice." He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and started walking down the hall. "You know, the more you two try to seem and look intimidating, the more dorkier you two get."  
  
The two guards looked at each other, and then proceeded to follow Schuldig down the hallway. As Schu walked, he let out a yawn and stretched. Digging through those twos' minds was really boring.not much in there. And they didn't know anything about what was going to happen him. Completely useless.  
  
"Herr Schuldig," one of them called out. Schu stopped and turned to see which one of them the voice came from. Both men were stopped by one of the doors in the hall a few paces from where Schu was at that moment. He walked over to them to see why they had stopped.  
  
"We need to go down this way," the one said pointing to the door.  
  
Schuldig looked at it. The door had one of those 'Achtung!' signs on it because no one was supposed to go in there. He didn't even know what was beyond the door and the more he thought about it, the more he didn't want to know.  
  
The one guard pulled out a key and opened the door. The three of them walked in. Schu walked in, and to his surprise, what was beyond the door was an elevator. The door closed, sounding like it automatically locked itself. The other guard opened the doors to the elevator, the three of them stepped in, and down they went.  
  
Down indeed.  
  
Either the elevator was going really, really slow or it was descending very deep into the ground. There was no indicator in the enclosure that said what floor they were at, but Schuldig could have sworn that they had descended about 5 or 6 floors, and they started out on the 3rd floor.  
  
Schuldig was growing somewhat nervous, not knowing what was going to happen and such. These two lent no help. He figured that where he was going was down to be mentally dissected by those three old coots. Maybe if he put himself into one of his little coma-like-states, they'd go away and not touch him; but they most likely wouldn't. They would most likely just dig into his mind anyway and he didn't know if he had any of his own mental blocks up when he was unconscious.  
  
The elevator stopped.  
  
The doors opened to a long hallway that was poorly lit. Single florescent light bulbs lined the center of the ceiling as far down as the hall went. Schu thought he saw a couple of doors scattered alone down the walls, but wasn't quite sure.  
  
The two guards stepped out and started to walk down the passageway. Schuldig followed a couple of paces behind them, glancing around at his surroundings: brick and stone mostly, with a couple of cockroaches here and there. He was correct; there were a couple of door scattered along the corridor. They weren't marked at all, so he had no clue as to what was beyond them.  
  
They got to the end and turned a corner to the left. Schuldig looked back to where they had come from, the elevator but a speck at the end of the hallway. He turned his head back and had to stop before tripping over one of the men. They had stopped and opened the first door on the right.  
  
"If you will please step inside," the one motioned. Both of them had stepped to the sides of the doorway to make a path for Schuldig to walk through into the room. He peeked in before entering, but didn't really see anything. The room seemed to be more dimly lit than the corridor.  
  
He stepped through the doorway. Schu was able to see better once in the room. The room wasn't very big at all. There was a table with three chairs and a couple of other chairs to the side. Opposite the table was another chair, but this one looked different. It had arms and a high back to it. It also looked like there were.straps? Straps on a chair? Why would there be straps on a chair unless you were going to tie something to it.or someone.  
  
Schuldig started to back up slowly. "Umm, guys, are you two sure we're in the right room?" Just then, he felt something strong grab him. Not his arms or his shoulders, just him, his entire self. It felt like, a force field of sorts went up and seize him.  
  
He struggled. Schu fought at the field with all he had. "Let go!" he yelled out. He then saw the two guards walk around into his view. "Please stay calm Herr Schuldig."  
  
Schu reached out with his mind to fight them. He felt their hold get weaker but it wasn't enough to break through. They dragged him over to the chair, Schuldig struggling the whole time. They were very quick about it, throwing him in the chair. The longer they waited, the more Schu was in there minds. The telepathic net held tight as they manually tied the straps and such around him; his legs, his arms, his torso, his head. Even after the force field was removed, Schu still struggled, but to no avail.  
  
No escape.  
  
Figures appeared in the doorway. Schu moved his eyes to see who was coming through the door. Those three Este creeps, then the dean, and then Crawford. Schuldig followed Crawford with his eyes, which in turn was watching him as he sat down in one of the chairs on the side of the room.  
  
He said nothing.  
  
Schu looked at everybody looking at him.very nerve-racking. //What the hell is this?!\\ he called out to the one old lady.  
  
//You are a mental creature child, so you will defend yourself mentally. No physical help. This is to make sure of that.\\  
  
//You call this a test?\\  
  
//Yes, we do.\\  
  
The other two thought out loud so Schuldig would hear them, "I think he will fail this." "He will serve us and our leader well, if he has the power they say he does." "This is a waist of our time." "I think this will be interesting, seeing him get his brain fried."  
  
All this was not comforting to Schuldig. He felt the old woman slipping into his mind, picking at everything in there. What would she do if she realized he thought they were full of shit? Mutilate his mind? Kill him? Brainwash him from the inside out? He couldn't let her get any farther than she already was.  
  
Granted, with the amount of consciousnesses surging through his head, he has learned not to be susceptible to too many thoughts and ideas, but this was different. He was most likely going to have certain thought processes implanted into his brain manually. He needed some way to stop this old chick from doing this. He didn't want to know the outcome of her doing this.  
  
She was strong, and brutal. To Schu, it felt like her hands were strangling his mind; strangling and ripping it. He actually felt physical pain because of her. His entire head hurt, not just his mind, his face, his ears, his skull, everything.  
  
He needed her out of there. He had to make her think he was nothing compared to her and that he was a good little Este follower. That's what she wanted. He sensed that's what she wanted. She dug for it.a mental ax; that's what she was.  
  
Schuldig went through his own mind and found as many other minds as he could. They were still there, other's minds in the back of his. He grabbed them, all of them and threw them at her. He pushed the strongest mind in there up to the front of his own mind.  
  
The old bag sensed something going on. She attacked even more furiously. Schuldig let out a scream. He tried to move around, but the straps holding him to the chair held tight. He needed out of there. Schu flung his stream of consciousness behind all of the other minds. When he did so, her hold seemed to loosen, but not enough.  
  
Let go, let go, let go.  
  
He was trying so hard; Schu's body began to shake. All of his energy was going into keeping other minds out in front of his own in order to fool her. It was becoming harder and harder to do so. What mental barriers he had to keep his own consciousness in check were starting to fall. He didn't know how much longer he could hang on. You know, if he really wanted to kill himself, he could think of easier and less painful ways of doing so.  
  
The three Este elites rose up from their seats. Crawford tore his eyes away from the shivering figure of Schuldig to look at them. They walked around the table and proceeded out of the room.  
  
"Aren't you going to release your hold on him?" he questioned after them.  
  
They stopped and turned. "Our hold is no longer on him. He is on his own now, Mr. Crawford." They turned and continued on their way. Fräulein Menschenfeind stepped into the hallway and watched them start to walk away.  
  
Crawford went over to Schuldig, who was still shaking, although it seemed more violent now. He grabbed his shoulders. "Schuldig. Schuldig! Snap out of it." Schu continued to shake.  
  
Schuldig's mind seemed so far away from his physical body. It floated in a space between the physical and death. He needed to get back; he needed to be pulled back.  
  
Crawford yelled at him again. "Schuldig, wake up!" Then he punched him.  
  
Schuldig's mind came screaming back to his brain; still holding onto that one last barrier he had.  
  
He stopped shaking and slowly opened his eyes. A blurry figure stood in front of him.  
  
"Schuldig?" Crawford looked at him. Schu's eyes then rolled into the back of his head and his body went limp.  
  
******************  
  
"Fräulein," came a voice from down the hall. The dean speed-walked down the hall to where the voice had come from.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. What is it?"  
  
"We have decided that he will be a valuable addition to our family. See that he is cared for."  
  
"Yes, of course, ma'am." She stopped and went back to the room.  
  
Crawford undid the straps that were holding the unconscious figure to the chair. He started with his feet and proceeded up to his head. As he was undoing the head strap, Fräulein Menschenfeind stopped at the doorway.  
  
"They want him. Get him up to the infirmary." With that she left.  
  
"And how do you expect me to do that?" he mumbled to himself. He finished undoing the head strap. When he did, the limp body of Schuldig fell off of the chair and into Crawford, who caught him.  
  
"I wish I could have warned you, not that it would have helped any. They still would have fried your brain." Crawford sat there on the ground holding the comatose telepath in his arms. "Oh, Schuldig..." 


	14. Vierzehn

Picket signs, huh? Looks around at pathetic excuse for a computer/linen/weight/catch-all room. I'll tell you what, if you can actually find a way to fit you and a picket sign in here, I'll let you march aaaaaaaaallllllllllllll you want. =) But anywho's, forgive the length of this chapter. There was so much that had to get put in here and I didn't want to split it up into more than one chapter. *Warning* There is a lemon section ahead. For those of you who care, you've been warned. This stuff belongs to KT & Prj. Weiß. All other stuff is mine. Enjoy!  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Three weeks later: Berlin, Germany  
  
Crawford stepped out of the shower and onto the already damp rug on the ground. He grabbed the towel that was hanging on a rack off to the side and ruffled it through the black locks that were now matted to his head. He then took the towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping up to the sink and looking at himself in the mirror.  
  
Well, as much as he could anyway. He didn't have his glasses on, so the entire world at that moment was one massive blur. He leaned on the sink and stared at the cloudy image of himself in the fuzzy mirror. The shape of his face and body and the mess of black above it he was able to make out. His facial features were mere dots on the peach blob.  
  
How his eyes seemed to have gotten worse in the past couple of years. He remembered a time when he really didn't need them to see all that much, just reading. But now, he needed them, period.  
  
"Hmm," he thought to himself, "Isn't it funny how I can see the future, clear as a bell, but can barely see the present two feet in front of my face." Crawford picked his glasses up from the back of the sink, unfolded them, and held the thin frames in his hand. "Poetic justice, perhaps?" he said aloud.  
  
Crawford placed them on his face and everything came back into focus. He now stared at the clear image of himself; his disheveled hair, his lean face, and his broad shoulders and defined upper body. He sighed and then shrugged. "Maybe not."  
  
He finished his shower ritual; shave, brush teeth, comb hair. Crawford then went into his bedroom and searched through his drawers for something to wear. He ended up pulling out something simple: khakis and a semi-dress shirt. Crawford wasn't planning on doing much today. He had finished some work he had earlier and his only plans remaining were to go and see Schuldig in the infirmary.  
  
It had been three weeks or so since he slipped into his coma. Schu had given no physical or mental response to anything since then. A couple of the telepaths that resided at Rosenkreuz were brought in to see if there was anything they could do, but they all said the same thing; there was nothing there. His consciousness was too far away to reach. It was up to him to find his way back.  
  
Crawford walked down to the infirmary that was located in the back most corner of the school. It was a fair sized space; 20 or so beds lined the walls of the sterile, white room. There were cabinets full of different medical supplies and such between some of the beds. The room reminded Crawford of a military hospital out of the 1940's and probably could have passed for one if not for the couple of modern electronic machines in the room as well.  
  
Crawford stopped at the doorway and looked in. For some reason, they had placed Schuldig all the way down at the other side of the room. There was the one nurse down with him fiddling with his IV it looked like.  
  
Crawford started to walk down the aisle to the other side of the room. The nurse finished what she was doing and walked back to the front of the room, passing Crawford. She smiled slightly at him as they passed.  
  
Schuldig lay in the bed, the blanket pulled up to his shoulders and tucked under his arms. There were some medical instruments around him, mostly for nourishment purposes and there was the small heart monitor that he was wired up to. Schu looked pale in color; his hair, of course, drowning out any color that he did have. His skin also felt clammy. All in all, he looked sick. And it was killing Crawford.  
  
Why? Why did it churn his insides whenever he came in to visit him? Why the hell did he visit the younger man so often in the first place? Crawford sat down in the chair that was still there from his last visit. He sat and he stared at Schuldig.  
  
In the short time he had known Schuldig, the telepath grew on him.like a fungus. He never seemed to go away. Crawford didn't mind his company at times, don't get him wrong, but the man was like alcohol, only healthy if taken in moderation. But then he was like alcohol in other ways too.  
  
Crawford shook his head at that thought. Why did he care so much? He had been alone most of his life, he should be used to it by now. But he felt this void in himself; a void that wasn't there before that damned redhead fell into his coma.  
  
"Why do you care, Bradley?" he thought to himself. "You can't care, you can't afford to care."  
  
The intensity of his stare grew with each passing thought. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew he shouldn't let the telepath get to him, but he did. He tried to fight it, but he always failed. Crawford thought that he should just admit it to himself, but this emotion, this feeling he saw as a weakness. He couldn't have any weaknesses. But, yet.  
  
"Oh, Schuldig. Wake up, will you?" he whispered to the unconscious form on the bed in front of him. He wanted him.no he needed him to wake up. Crawford was lonely, there he admitted it.he was lonely. Ugh! This sucked. He felt something positive toward another human being.  
  
Crawford suddenly got mad at himself. He rose up and left. He stormed back to his own office to try to straighten his mind out. He needed to stop this; he needed to remember what he was and where he was going. He didn't deserve to love another person. Love.?  
  
*******************  
  
Blackness.  
  
Silence.  
  
Numbness.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Schuldig was actually quite comfortable where he was, wherever he was. He couldn't tell if he was sitting in his head or floating out in outer space. He couldn't see what was around him; he couldn't feel where he was or what he was on. But he felt comforted, safe. Nothing could hurt him here. He couldn't feel hurt because he felt nothing.  
  
The notion of staying here crossed his thought processes. To stay in this intangible form seemed like such a good idea. Schuldig felt like this was his true form. His physical state was a burden on his mind because it felt pain and stopped his 'mind' from going where it wanted. But, on the other hand, it was his physical body that did feel and bring on the pleasure and that was good. If he could have, he would have smiled.  
  
He could just let himself go now if he wanted. Why didn't he? End it all now? It's not as if he had much to live for. If he were already in a hell at 15, where would he be later in his life? Granted, most of it was his own fault. He made the choice to do the things he did and he didn't think about where it would lead him. It was very typical of Schuldig.  
  
But something was holding him to the physical world. Something was there that didn't allow him to let go. What was it? Revenge, perhaps? Or maybe it 'was' the feel of a physical body. Or maybe.it was the one thing he felt something toward, the only thing he ever felt anything toward.the only thing that felt anything toward him, at least at one time.that damned American.  
  
Oh, lord! What sap! When the hell did he start to feel like this? When the hell did he start to feel?! He never felt anything toward anyone before. It was an occupational hazard. Why did he open up? It was that damned headache. It ruined any personal defenses he had. So all emotions flowed into him and therefore flowed out of him. Shit.  
  
Schu had learned not to feel anything, yet doing so felt so good, to be free in body, mind, and soul. Granted, manipulating other peoples' feelings seemed to give him a release too.an ultimate rush, a transcendent high.but this release was different. There was a fear in there also, a fear that he could be hurt since these were his own emotions and not someone else's. Ugh! What should he do?  
  
Maybe feeling wasn't so bad. Maybe he should give it another try. Maybe it will work out to his advantage. Maybe he might like it. Maybe, just maybe.  
  
*******************  
  
{{Schuldig opened his eyes and looked around}}  
  
Crawford opened his eyes and sat up. Was that a dream or a precognition? He didn't know, but there was one way to find out. He quickly threw some clothes on and speed walked down to the infirmary.  
  
Funny, how he didn't think about why he was going or what he was going to do when he got down there, Crawford just knew that he had to be there. Down through the different corridors and stairwells he hurried toward where Schuldig would be waking up.  
  
There was the opening to the infirmary at the end of the hall. One small door stood between him and the hopefully conscious telepath inside. Crawford reached the door. He opened it and hurried inside.  
  
Just inside the door, to either side, were offices where the one doctor happened to be working. The main room was dark except for one lamp down by Schuldig's bed. Crawford hurried down to the other end of the room. There was Schu, on the bed.unconscious.  
  
Crawford stopped at the foot of the bed. He looked at Schuldig's still unconscious form still lying in the bed. He sighed. The precog stood there for a good 10 minutes or so, but nothing happened. He turned around and leaned on the bed frame. He stared out the opposite window, not thinking of anything really, just looking.  
  
"Maybe it was just a dream," he said aloud. He let out a chuckle to himself and walked away. And then suddenly.  
  
"Crawford?"  
  
The hoarse voice rang in his ears and made his insides jump as high as they could. Crawford whipped around to see Schuldig with his head turned and was staring at him.  
  
Crawford forced himself to relax and stood up as straight as he could. "Well, it's nice to see that you are awake."  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"You're in the infirmary."  
  
Schuldig blinked and attempted to sit up. "The infirmary? How long have I been out?"  
  
Crawford rushed over to help Schu into an upright position. "About three weeks or so."  
  
"Three weeks!?"  
  
"Yes, you've been out for quite some time."  
  
Schuldig was finally able to sit with the help from Crawford. He'd been in a mental state for so long, that he almost forgot what physical contact felt like. Schu never quite appreciated the feel before.  
  
"I should probably go tell the doctor that you're awake."  
  
"Could you also get me some water?" Schu asked Crawford as he started to walk away.  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Schuldig watched the clairvoyant man walk through the dark toward the front. Yes, that just might be what held him here.  
  
Jeez, three weeks! How time does fly in a place with no sense of time. But then, he should have expected as much. Anytime he had taken his mind out of commission, the outside world would always speed by. Humph, no wonder he was hungry.and thirsty. Where was that water?  
  
The doctor appeared out of the shadows, stethoscope already on his ears. He looked Schuldig over, checking vitals, looking at the few monitors there, and a couple of other little things. Crawford finally appeared with a cup of water, as the doctor was busy unhooking a few of the tubes and wires.  
  
"Danke," Schu said quietly as he accepted the water. It was gone in one quick gulp.  
  
"Well," the doctor piped up, "You seem to be fine. I see no physical affects from your coma. I would like to keep you in here for observation though, just through tomorrow. Right now, just get some rest." He walked away.  
  
"Danke schön, Herr Docktor," Crawford said after the man.  
  
"As if I haven't rested enough already," Schuldig blurted out as he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. "So Bradley, what have you been up to?" he smiled. "Haven't been checking up on me every day, have you?"  
  
Crawford blinked at him. "Work as usual," he said as he sat on the bed next to Schuldig's bed, "but thinking mostly."  
  
Schuldig perked an eyebrow. "Thinking? About what?"  
  
"Nothing in particular," Crawford replied as he stared off into nowhere. "Just.this whole thing.those three.what they did, what they're going to do. In their eyes, you are one of the best. Yet, what they did was reckless; putting one of their own, one of their best in danger. It was an idiotic tactic, if you could call it a tactic. Someone that stupid doesn't deserve to be a leader or to decide who should be a leader." He paused.  
  
Schuldig looked at him. "Crawford, is that 'concern' I hear coming from your mouth?"  
  
Crawford looked at Schu. "But now is not the time and this is not the place to discuss this. I'm sorry I brought it up. You get some rest and I will check on you tomorrow." The precog rose up and walked out of the room.  
  
Schuldig watched as he disappeared into the shadows. "Like I said before, 'as if I haven't rested enough already'. Besides, how do you turn off this light?"  
  
*************  
  
Rain poured outside, the precipitation cooling off everything from the sweltering June day. A wet breeze came through the open windows of Crawford's bedroom cooling the space off. Unfortunately, it provided minimal relief for the warm office where he was seated. The only vent for the cool air was the doorway between the two rooms.  
  
He didn't have any work to do, no papers to fill out, no books to read, no schematics to look over, nothing. That was it. Everything was done. There was nothing left to learn, for him, nothing left to be taught.  
  
Two days.  
  
In two days he would leave this god-forsaken place and never return to it again. In two days, he would be doing Este's dirty work elsewhere. In two days he would get his orders from the dean and in two days, he was a full Este agent.  
  
How depressing.  
  
Well, at least he would have some freedom. He wouldn't be cooped up in some stuffy building from now on. He would have cities to wreak havoc upon instead of just a couple of offices.  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door opened and a Schuldig stuck his head in.  
  
"Guten Tag."  
  
"Ah, I see they let you out of that infirmary. Not too many tests, I presume. How do you feel?"  
  
Schuldig brought his entire self into the room and shut the door behind him. "I'm fine. No lasting effects, but then there never are."  
  
"This isn't the first time you've been reduced to a coma-like state?"  
  
"Nein, and it probably won't be the last." Schu moseyed on over to the couch and flopped down. It was probably the best seat in the office since it was situated next to the open doorway. He relaxed immensely from the cool breeze and pounding rain coming from the open windows in the adjacent room.  
  
Crawford stared at Schu. It felt like only yesterday, yet forever that the telepath was in his office, flopped out over his furniture. Suddenly, it seemed as if nothing had changed; like that coma never happened. But it did, and it had affected Crawford as well as Schuldig.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" Schuldig suddenly asked. It was a question that Schu felt odd asking, since he'd have no reason to. But then, as he'd come to learn on many occasions, Crawford was just special like that.  
  
Crawford snapped back into reality. He thought about what he was thinking. Several thoughts were running through his head at that moment. He rose out of his chair and walked around to the front of the desk and leaned on it, facing Schu. Crawford felt he couldn't sit when he said this.  
  
"I started to tell you this in the infirmary. These past three weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've come to this conclusion: I am not totally opposed to this 'Este-taking-over-the-world' idea. In fact, I've come to feel that this world could use a drastic change such as that. But, I don't like how they are going about it. I despise their methods of doing so. I hate the way they are manipulating these people and I hate the way they can't do their own dirty work. I have come to feel that the only way to stop Este is to outdo them; beat them to their goal. And I will bring them down if it means ruling the world myself."  
  
Schuldig sat there, stunned.  
  
"Now I know I say that now, but I won't be able to do it alone, even I will admit to that. I believe your help could be used. A team of a strong precog and a strong telepath."  
  
Okay, it's not as if 'all' of this was necessarily sudden, but that's a lot of information for Crawford to just spill out like that. "May I ask," Schuldig questioned, "What brought this whole thought process on?"  
  
Crawford tightened his jaw. What should he say; should he tell Schu anything? . "Alright, listen carefully, because I will never say or admit to this again."  
  
Crawford turned so his back was now to the desk and Schu was now looking at his distinct profile. If Crawford were to face Schuldig, he didn't think he would be able to get this out. He took a deep breath.  
  
"As far as Este goes, I'm particularly upset about the fact that it was you they attacked. I was. 'concerned' that you wouldn't wake up from that sleep of yours. These past three weeks had seemed rather empty. Granted, I've been alone for most of my life so it's not that I necessarily need you, but it was odd not having you here. It was like a sudden void. I mean, I was actually.shaken by you being in that coma. It. 'scared' me cause I didn't see anything in the future involving you. I don't know why.why I didn't see anything or why it scarred me. And I think I hate the feeling more than I hate Este."  
  
Schuldig was speechless. Crawford never had poured his heart out like this. Hell, he didn't even know the man had a heart to pour out. And 'he' scared him! Well, it's not like it was his fault. Granted, Schu himself kind of forced the coma upon himself, but it was mostly them.  
  
Schu starred out into space trying to absorb what he had just heard coming from Crawford's mouth.  
  
Crawford inhaled. Wow, that was a lot of emotion for one conversation. Too much if you ask him. He looked over at Schuldig who was now oblivious to the world.  
  
Thunder started to rumble outside and the wind seemed to pick-up slightly because it was now just catching pieces of Schuldig's hair as it traveled through the doorway.  
  
Crawford blinked. All of a sudden, the redhead looked extremely attractive sitting on the couch looking completely expressionless.  
  
He pushed himself off of the desk and moved over to the couch where he seated himself next to Schuldig. Schu noticed the sudden movement of the couch and realized Crawford was now sitting next to him. He turned his head and looked at the older precog, who in turn, was looking intensely at him.  
  
The two of them stared at each other. Neither one knowing how long, neither one caring. Then Crawford reached his hand up and placed it under Schuldig's chin, pulling his face toward his own in the process. He placed a small kiss on Schu's left cheek and another one closer to his mouth.  
  
Schuldig closed his eyes tightly; savoring every kiss he was receiving from Crawford. After that argument they had a while back involving their age difference, he thought Crawford would never touch him again. But then, Crawford didn't seem to exactly be in his right mind at the moment. Oh Gott, Schuldig wanted this so bad he could feel it, but would Bradley regret it later? He didn't want that.  
  
Schuldig reached his hands up and, placing them on either side of Crawford's neck, he gently pushed him away. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."  
  
Crawford planted a firm kiss on Schuldig's lips and then backed his head away again slightly. He gave Schu the look he tends to give someone right before he's about to kick their ass. He quietly said, "I do. I want to show you what you'll miss if you ever do that to me again."  
  
Schuldig stared at him. And then he smiled; not because he was amused by what Crawford said or the fact that even a non-precog could see where this was going, but just a smile. He relaxed, he opened himself up, he let himself be consumed by the older man.  
  
Crawford kissed him again, feeling Schuldig's silly little smile against his lips. The telepath kissed him back. He felt Schu's arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Schuldig's warmth felt very inviting, his smell enticing, his taste, delicious. Crawford slipped an arm around Schu's waist and ran his other hand into the mass of red hair. Each kiss, each slip of their tongues came faster and more furious.  
  
Then, Crawford stopped. Schuldig looked at him wondering what was wrong. "Bed." That's all he said, and Schuldig was up and heading toward the bedroom.  
  
He didn't bother turning the light on. The lightning from outside lit up the room enough to find the bed, that's all he needed. Schu turned around to see Crawford coming through the doorway and closing the door behind him.  
  
Crawford grabbed hold of Schuldig and they continued from where they left off in the previous room. He slowly moved the telepath back toward the bed. Schu's knees hit the mattress, they bent and he went down. Crawford removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand before placing a knee between Schuldig's legs and climbing onto the bed over him.  
  
He leaned in and nibbled at the German's neck. His hand slowly caressed Schuldig's waist, pulling his shirt up, exposing soft flesh. Schuldig leaned his head back exposing more of his neck for his partner, all the while fiddling with the zipper on Crawford's pants.  
  
Crawford put himself upright and helped with the button before leaning over and undoing Schuldig's as well. As he was doing so, Schu pulled the precog's pants down exposing his erect groin. Schuldig's own pants were soon off and also in the pile of clothing forming on the floor.  
  
Schuldig backed himself up further into the bed. Crawford removed his shirt and tossed it before climbing up and nestling himself between Schuldig's legs. He moved in to kiss Schuldig. Schu placed his hands on the sides of Crawford's face and guided him to his own lips. They locked lips; their tongues searching, tasting each other. Small moans escaped from the depths of their throats.  
  
Crawford ran his hand down the length of the German's body; softly caressing the front of his shoulder, running down his side, just brushing a thumb over a tender nipple, feeling the muscle definition beneath his palm, down to a thin hip and tight butt.  
  
Schuldig shivered slightly at the American's touch. He opened his eyes slightly, just in time for a flash of lightning to illuminate the room and Crawford's face; eyes closed, a look of pleasure and passion upon his features, a look never seen. Schu closed his eyes again. He tightened his thigh muscles, squeezing Crawford's hips.  
  
"I want you, Bradley," he whispered.  
  
Crawford backed off of Schuldig slightly. He grabbed the redhead's legs and pulled him down the bed slightly. He placed his hands underneath Schu's thighs and pushed them up toward his head. Schuldig wrapped his legs up around Crawford's back as he moved back into position.  
  
Schu could feel the tip of Crawford's erection caressing his skin, teasing him. The torture was horrendous, the anticipation, killing him.  
  
Crawford pinned his partner's wrists to the bed, holding them tight  
  
"Oh, Bradley, please."  
  
Crawford nibbled at Schuldig's neck. "More?" he mumbled into his skin. All he got was a groan in response. He couldn't take it anymore either. After searching out the opening to Schuldig, Crawford slowly inserted himself in.  
  
Schuldig bit his lip. He almost forgot what this felt like. He almost forgot how much he liked it. But there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the fact that he was with someone he knew, someone 'he' wanted, someone who wanted 'him' and not just his sex.  
  
It's amazing how emotions can heighten the sense of pleasure. Schuldig would have never guessed.  
  
Crawford quickened his pace. He drove himself in as far as he could. As soon as he hit Schuldig's prostate, Schuldig let out a yell, "Ah! Brad!"  
  
Crawford let go of Schuldig's one hand, reached down and started to stroke him. Schuldig's breathing got faster; moans escaped his mouth. The pleasure of it all was building up in Crawford. He felt like he was going to explode.  
  
Schuldig took his free hand and brought it down to grasp Crawford's moving one. He moved the older man's hand faster along the shaft. It just wasn't enough for him. Schu wanted Brad to be faster, harder.  
  
Crawford felt a hand grab his and move it more. He tried to match his own rhythms. He looked down at his partner. He could just make out the moaning figure below him. Then, there was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. In that brief moment, Crawford could see that Schuldig's head was on it's side and he thought he could make out extreme delectation on the red-head's face. Bradley smiled, not that he wasn't already. This all was going to be over too soon.  
  
He could feel it coming, both of them could. Brad let out a groan and released himself. Schuldig felt the warmth within him and he himself ejaculated upon the both of them. For one moment, Schuldig felt as if it was just the two of them. There were no voices, no thoughts. It was a moment of paradise where their rhythms were precise, their timing, impeccable.  
  
Bradley collapsed onto Schuldig, who wrapped his arms around the American's neck. The two of them lay there panting and trying to catch their breath. Lightning still lit the room up, but the storm was farther away since it was only low rumbles of thunder now. Crawford listened to the sounds of the passing storm outside as well as Schu's heavy breathing.  
  
Eventually, Crawford rolled off Schuldig and laid on his back staring at the images around him. He felt the body next to him move from its spot to his chest. Long strands of hair were starting to stick all over his perspiring skin. He brought a hand up and moved the pieces away and then letting his hand rest in the main mess of it.  
  
Schuldig felt a whole bunch of hair clinging to his neck. It was rather uncomfortable. He sat up from where he had just placed his head and fiddled with his hair. Schu pulled all of his hair into a twist behind him; anything to get those pesky strands that didn't want to detach themselves from his sticky skin.  
  
He suddenly felt a hand caress his back. Crawford ran his finger from the base of Schu's spin up as high as it would go without having to remove it from the bed.  
  
Schuldig turned his head around to look at Crawford. "Was?"  
  
Crawford looked at the image of his partner. "Why do you effect me like this?"  
  
Schu let go of his hair, which untwisted and dropped back down to his back. He leaned over and planted a flirtatious kiss on the precog's lips. "Why do you let me effect you like this?"  
  
The telepath gave Crawford one last kiss before lying back down, this time on his shoulder. The two of them drifted off into slumber as the last of the storm planted its fury on the world outside.  
  
*****************  
  
The heat from the sun coming through the window awoke Schuldig that morning. He awoke to find that he was no longer on Crawford but buried in a big fluffy pillow. He whipped himself around, thinking that Crawford had left, but he was still there, lying on his back on the other side of the bed.  
  
Crawford looked at Schu when he turned quickly. "Problem?" he questioned.  
  
"Nein," Schu said as he relaxed and laid back down. The two of them lay there. The silence in the room bothered Schuldig after awhile.  
  
"What're you thinking about?" he questioned after awhile hoping the voice, even if it was his own, would help.  
  
Silence.  
  
Okay, this wasn't helping. Then he chuckled inwardly. He thought about how many people he's talked to, though most of them women, always seemed to like the strong, silent type. He came to kind of prefer that type also, but Crawford was just god damned ridiculous! He sighed.  
  
"I'm leaving tomorrow."  
  
Whoa! Run that by me again. "What did you just say?" Schuldig turned his head to look at Crawford.  
  
"I said that tomorrow I leave Rosenkreuz."  
  
Schuldig sat up and stared at the older man. "Tomorrow? You leave tomorrow and you are just telling me now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He didn't know why, but Schuldig felt as if someone just ripped a vital organ out of him. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew Crawford was going to be leaving, and he knew it was soon, but a little more warning would have been nice.  
  
He calmed himself. Schu took in a deep breath and exhaled.  
  
"I would have told you sooner but you were in a coma when I was told. But anyway, tomorrow I get the final orders for wherever I'm going and I leave."  
  
Silence, again.  
  
Lovely. Their acquaintanceship started from Crawford wanting an ally in here and now that's what Schuldig has gotten used to and now he leaves and he now has nobody and it makes him so mad, and.and.  
  
He calmed himself. Schu knew it was coming. He shouldn't be so angry.  
  
He sighed, again.  
  
"Well, do you need any help packing?" He looked over at Crawford.  
  
"No, I can handle it." The man got up and walked to the bathroom. As the door shut, Schuldig slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. It already started to feel lonely in here.  
  
*****************  
  
Schuldig watched Crawford as he brought the last suitcase out of the bedroom and set it on the ground by the door. The precog was clad in his best business suit; shirt, vest, jacket, pants, and freshly shined shoes. Schu thought he just looked extremely hot and stuffy. But it was Crawford. He never questioned what he wanted to wear.  
  
A man entered the room and took the last suitcase, leaving Crawford standing by the doorway and Schuldig hunched over on the couch. Crawford looked at the German. He didn't know what to say, or if he really wanted to say anything.  
  
Schu looked up at him. "This sucks, you know."  
  
Crawford shrugged. "Just learn to keep your big mouth shut and you'll do fine in here."  
  
"So, tell me my clairvoyant associate, do you see "us" in the future?"  
  
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Crawford said flatly.  
  
Schuldig raised an eyebrow at the comment.  
  
Crawford walked over to him and placed a hand under Schu's chin. "There's a saying where I come from that goes, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'"  
  
"Humph. It's also said that absence makes you forget things."  
  
"I have to go." Crawford dropped his hand and turned to leave. But, just as he was about to walk out of the room, he turned and in pure, New England accented English, he said, "You take care of yourself Schuldig. See ya 'round." And he left.  
  
Schuldig blinked. He sat back in the couch and let the emptiness encompass him.  
  
******************  
  
Fräulein Menschenfeind handed Crawford a folder. "There are your orders. It's actually quite a lot for a new Este agent. The car outside will take you to the airport and you will proceed from there." The woman stood up from her desk. She looked Crawford up and down and looked at him as if she was pouting. "Good luck in your mission and welcome aboard, Oracle." She extended her hand and Crawford shook it.  
  
"Danke Fräulein. I will do my best." He let go of her hand, turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hall, walked down the steps, and walked out the front door. There was a car waiting outside, the driver holding the door open for him. He got into the car and it left. Through the gates of the ominous Rosenkreuz and out to the streets of Berlin, Germany.  
  
Crawford sat thinking about the time in the future when he could take this place down, all of Este. He sat thinking as the car drove him to the next chapter in his life. 


	15. Author's Note

Okay, obviously we all know that FFN is going to be a real whore with the populace of us that have NC-17 stories up here. Well, what can we do. So, I have reposted. Go me. But with my old story being removed from the site, I lost all of my reviews. Þ Well, because all of the reviews that were left mean so much to me and I would absolutly die if I lost them, I decided to repost them as a separate chapter in my story. I know y'all probably don't read these things, but I would like to keep them up and with the story. Perhaps I am corny, but just ask my friends, corniness is my essence. =) In all complete honesty, the only reason I made it NC-17 is because I pull half of my ideas out of my ass when I write them so I truly have no idea where it's going. The rating was for my own protection, I guess..but anyways...here are my own reviews. Please keep supporting me! I love knowing that my writings are actually read and enjoyed. ^_____________________________^  
  
First published February 3rd, 2002. 53 reviews as of September 13th, 2002  
  
Briar Rose (maresdrake@hotmail.com) ---------2002-09-13-------------14 Oh, I love this story. Brad and Schu are so sweet together. But REALLY, it should be rated "R." An NC-17 is NOT warranted, and you do your story a dis- service (besides which, ff.net is going to delete all "NC-17" by Oct. 12.  
  
"R" is still "adult over 17 content" and covers homosexual themes, rape, cuss words---and other things more "objectionable" than are in your fic.  
  
Reggae--------------2002-07-15-----------------14 Great story! I can't wait for the next chapter. o.^  
  
P.S. Speare-----------------2002-06-05-------------------14 *throws 'new' picket sign (since apparently my old one was recycled) and self into dryer, and spins dry on high for an hour* There, now that I've shrunken myself, I'll just camp out by the computer until there's more. The story is coming along quite nicely, and I can't help but cheer for Crawford and Schu to be together. Some heartwarming Brad/Schu moments in this chapter which were wonderfully done. Please, keep it coming! ^_^  
  
Soxs (Trinity4343@gmx.de) ---------------------2002-06-05---------------14 hi,  
  
i just wanted to say that i really love your fic...  
  
it's one of the best i have ever read...  
  
i'm always looking forward to you updating this incredibly good story  
  
thanks and bye soxs  
  
sabacat------------------2002-06-04-------------------14 YUM!!! That was delicious! So sweet... yet so sad... I love how you write! Great chapter once again! ^___^  
  
Ians-Koibito-----------------------2002-06-04----------------------14 Yeah!!!!!! Brad got to be Seme!!!!!!! *GRIN*  
  
Good chapter, when will we get ta see more??  
  
BlondGoddess---------------------2002-05-18------------------13 That was great! You just gotta luv Schu! ^.~  
  
ShiTiger------------------2002-05-09------------------13 Great chapter, what happens now?  
  
P.S. Speare---------------------2002-05-08-----------------------13 *Pickets around Trunkschan's computer with a 'More!' sign* I need more. Please, write more! I'm really enjoying the relationship you've developed between Brad and Schu, angsty at times and yet sweet some other times. Not to mention the the plot is unfolding quite nicely. Please continue, and soon! ^_^  
  
sabacat----------------------2002-05-08----------------------13 What a cool chapter!!! Evil place to stop though...lol Write more fast! ^___^  
  
Ians-Koibito-----------------------2002-04-21------------------------12 This is a really good story, I'm enjoying reading it very much and can't wait for the next chapter to be put up. ^^  
  
ShiTiger---------------------2002-04-18----------------------12 Great chapter! Schuldig is getting stronger. More yaoi! Next chapter soon, please!  
  
wispykitty---------------------2002-04-18------------------12 *dies* That was beautiful! Mooooore!!!!! ^_^  
  
NagiLite------------------------2002-04-16--------------------11 Oooooh, this is just so cool! WRITE MORE!!!! Pronto! ^-^  
  
Ketty (ketty2@wp.pl) ----------------------2002-04-16-------------------11 ^-^  
  
This story is better with every chapter.  
  
I just love to read it!!!!  
  
And of course I'm waiting for more  
  
Madiha---------------2002-04-16--------------11 I like the flow of this fic.Continue ne?I'll be waiting for the next chapter.  
  
ShiTiger-------------------2002-04-15------------------11 Very good. I can't wait to see the next chapter. Yaoi!  
  
sabacat----------------------2002-04-15------------------11 Poor little Schu! ...it's sure to hit the fan now! This was another cool chapter! ^___^  
  
Yukina----------------------2002-04-12------------------------10 Ok first off I have totally enjoyed reading your fic thus far. You have done a wonderfull job of keeping the characters, well, in character ^_^ Second off...YOU CANT LEAVE IT LIKE THIS!!!!! NOOOO PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE FINISH IT!!! Hehe sorry. I know work takes too much time but I am keeping my fingers crossed that you continue this soon ^_^  
  
*Yukina*  
  
ShiTiger---------------------2002-04-11---------------------10 That was so sweet! I just loved that chapter, please write more. Yaoi!  
  
Katashi Usagi-----------------------2002-04-10-------------------10 Okok, i read it. stop buggin me now hehe. yes hun it was VERY sweet and VERY cute. now be a good best friend and write some more before we go to Yohji's on Friday k? hehe see ya later!...... SO SWEET!!!  
  
P.S. Speare---------------------2002-04-10-------------------10 That was such a touching Brad/Schu scene in Ch. 10. Beautifully done! I'm really enjoying the dimensions you're putting into Brad and Schu''s characters, not to mention the developing relationship you've created between them. Wonderful job. Please, continue! And soon! :)  
  
wispykitty--------------------2002-04-10-------------------10 Oooooooh!!!!! That was so sweet!!!!!!! Aw man, that was so adorable, so sweet!! ^^  
  
Akari------------------------2002-04-10--------------------10 Awwwwwwwwwwwwww! That's so sweet. *gets all teary eyed* *sniff* more please.  
  
sabacat-----------------------2002-04-10------------------------10 That was wonderful! So sweet!  
  
ShiTiger--------------------------2002-04-09--------------------9 Poor Schu, can't wait to find out what happens in the next chapter. This story was fun to read, when will the other two arrive? Yaoi!  
  
Akari--------------------2002-04-09----------------------9 Oooh I like this.  
  
What about Nagi-chan and Farfie warfiepoo?  
  
Uh,Yeah... just right more ok.  
  
Madiha-------------------------2002-04-09-------------------9 Hmm....kinda sad for SchuSchu here ne?  
  
Katashi Usagi-----------------------2002-03-31-----------------------8 you're not allowed to have an opinion in this Nagi-chan, and neither am i.... besides you know you and i got to read it first anyways! heheh.. i STILL can't belive you wrote that Schuschu.  
  
Nagi-chan------------------------2002-03-30---------------------8 Post the yaoi...heheh...  
  
Yaoi, is the essence of life...*grin*  
  
Madiha---------------------2002-03-28-----------------------8 I vote for basic drama in the next chapter and lemon in the later chapters.  
  
rave (wonderlandrave@hotmail.com) ---------------------2002-03-27----------- -------8 damn sex between two really bishonen guys or a good plot let's pnder that for a sec... hmmmmmmm SEX!!!!!!!!!!!! (i'm such a hentai ^_^;;;)  
  
sandy-------------------------2002-03-27--------------------8 would we?! of course, well, at least I am, its not complete without it doncha think?^_~ and besides, if its a schu and brad lemon, its even more better, please continue this fic because it's really good! can't wait for the next one, hopefully full of brad/schu lemony goodness!hehe...^_~  
  
Ketty (ketty2@wp.pl) -------------------------2002-03-22-------------------- 7 I like your story vey,vey,very much. ^_^  
  
And now I'm wondering what will Bradly do with SchuSchu...  
  
Please write more!  
  
Katashi Usagi---------------------2002-03-22---------------------7 Wow... i can't believe you wrote that.... wow... hehe you know i'm NEVER gonna let you forget the fact that you wrote this hehe. Can't wait till Rae reads it. hehehe oh boy hehehe well bye!  
  
Katashi Usagi---------------------2002-03-22-----------------------6 WAIWAI!!! Hun i love this story, you know i do. hehe can't wait to read more. Oh, new chapter to test read! hehe bye!  
  
Lilee--------------------2002-03-21------------------6 ooooh!!!this is really good!!! ^_^ please write some more of this story, I luv it! especially a schu and brad fic! they look good together^_~ so please, update soon k?! ^_^  
  
Me Myself & I -------------------2002-03-21---------------------6 WOO HOO!!! I luv Schu and Brad. Gotta get some yaoi schtuff in here. heheh... *grin*  
  
Leoangel --------------------------2002-03-21---------------------6 AWESOME STORY! I LOVED IT! PLEASE WRITE MORE SOON! I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS ^ ^  
  
Sabacat----------------------2002-03-21----------------------6 YaY! the beginning of Crawford and Schu! I want more!!! ^__^  
  
wispykitty--------------------------2002-03-20---------------------5 Oi!! Me loves this story so much!!!!! You so have to write some more very soon!! This story totally rules so far. :)  
  
CherryBerry------------------------2002-03-20-----------------------5 WAH! Poor Brad! He's definitely on the road to doing whatever it takes to get what he wants though. Ya just gotta love that guy! Great chapter!  
  
Lela--------------------------2002-03-14----------------------4 I wish you'd keep writing more, I want to know what happened with Nagi and Schu (since they're my favorites, of course ^_^). So... To speed things up, here's cookies for you! Freshly made in Sweden, the land of... Whatever. ;) Keep writing, onegai yo!  
  
Nagi-chan (soldier_senshi@hotmail.com) ---------------------------2002-03- 05------------------3 sugoi Trunks-chan!! I like having an older sister who writes fanfic hehe... ^_~ MOOSE!  
  
sabacat--------------------------2002-03-05---------------------3 This should get very interesting for Brad... Great chapter!  
  
Alyce---------------------2002-03-04-------------------1 Well...it's an interesting storyline, however, I REALLY think you should take out the Japanese in the beginning. Why? This fic is in ENGLISH. As a Japanese major, it drives me NUTS when anime fans decide to include it in their fics. Unless the entire thing is written in romanji, or you have subtitles within the fic so that those who haven't seen a lot of subbed anime will still understand, it's not going to make sense to some people.  
  
Kira------------------------2002-03-04-------------------1 Hm...Actually pretty good...But it's  
  
"Die Geschichte von Schwarz" (The History of Schwarz) "Geschichte aus Schwarz" means, History out of black....^^; Or is it meant that way? (trust me with the pronounciation of the German...I am German...^^)  
  
sabacat--------------------------2002-03-04-------------------2 YAY! I was happy to see a new part this morning! The more Brad the better! Great part!  
  
Cloudy daze------------------------2002-03-03---------------------1 Very good so far. *grins* I'm really getting into schwarz lately and their pasts always fasinated me. And of course for me yaoi is always a good thing. ^__^ Keep it up.  
  
Kaneko-Chan -----------------------2002-03-03--------------------1 Wow, great start ^^, but what about farfie-sama? Please keep going ^.^  
  
sabacat---------------------2002-03-03------------------1 That's a great start--definitely can't wait to read more! ^__^  
  
Madiha------------------------2002-03-03-------------------1 Wow....I love every part of this fic.Especially the Nagi part.  
  
Katashi Usagi--------------------2002-03-02----------------------1 Sugoi sugoi Trunks-chan! you finally got one of the stories published!! can't wait till you get more done on this. i love it so much so far. keep goin! 


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